My Best Friend
by Gumball2
Summary: My First Fanfic. Stan is gay, however when he confesses it, he is brutally murdered by a gang. However a deal with God sends him back to Kyle, but is scarred from the abuse. Can Kyle help him? Slash. Style. Rated M for language, violence, rape, and sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own any of this. That distinction goes to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**

**Stan's POV**

He wasn't there. Kyle wasn't there.

Mr. Garrison had just walked into the classroom and the class fell silent.

"Let me take attendence, children." he stated. Instead of reading off our names like usual, he quickly skimmed through his clipboard. Something welled up inside me for his rushing. "Looks like everyone here except Kyle." he reported. He then placed down his clipboard and began to speak.

"Alright children," he started "now I want you to take out your poems you had to do last night." We did as he instructed. "Would anyone like to read their poems to the class?" The class was dead silent. "Come on children, I want at least one person to read." I was orignally gonna read to the class, but without Kyle, the action was futile.

Mr. Garrison started to get irritated. "If nobody is willing to read, then I'll have to pick one of you myself." he threatened. However, we all remained silent despite this. He remained silent for a minute. Finally, not wanting to wait anymore he finally went through with his threat. "Alright, looks like I'll have to select one of you bastards." He then took out his clipboard. I was really hoping he wouldn't pick me. My poem just wouldn't make sense without him. "Looks like our lucky poet is...Stan Marsh."

Fuck. "I can't!" I retorted. "I can't!" I realized what I said wasn't best. "Stanley! You are gonna get your ass up here and read your god damn poem!" he yelled.

Knowing further acts of retaliation wouldn't help, I got up and approached the front of the class. The fatass, Eric Cartman, gave me a glare as I walked up. When I reached the front, I took out my poem. I was extremely nervous, my heart was pounding, and I felt as if I was gonna die. I proceeded to start my poem. _"You're my sweet-"_ I was suddenly cut off by a loud noise.

I quickly looked at the door and saw Kyle burst through it. He approached Mr. Garrison's desk panting and handed him a tardy slip.

"I'm...sorry...I'm...late...Mr...Garrison." he said tiredly. Mr. Garrison picked up the slip. "I understand you being late Kyle. But you didn't have to barge in and interrupt someone's presentation." he lectured "I know, and I'm sorry." Kyle apologized and made his way to his desk.

I was suddenly filled with confidence now that my true audience was there. I started over.

_You're my sweet sunshine_

_that always fills my day._

_You're my fine light_

_that always shines the way._

_You're my love and pride_

_that makes me sleep at night._

_You're my truth and trust_

_that makes sure that I am right._

_I want to be with you always_

_you in my hand._

_I want to show you my love_

_that will always stand._

_I think about you everyday_

_I'd reckon you do the same._

_There shall be harmony_

_right in your name._

I finished, placed it on Mr. Garrison's desk, and sat back down. There was no applause and no chanting. As I looked around at everyone's faces, I can easily conclude that no one really understood the poem. I looked at Mr. Garrison, who was shocked. I then looked at Kyle, who was clueless by the poem. I finally looked at Cartman, who had his hands to his mouth, trying to hold back a laugh. I then settled as Mr. Garrison carried on with class. I didn't really pay attention, as I was wondering whether or not he liked the poem, let alone understand it. As Mr. Garrison finished with the lesson, the bell rang. I filed out with the others. Cartman then whispered into my ear "You fags." I then stopped for a moment, and then continued. I was at the doorway when Mr. Garrison said "Um, Stanley. Could I talk to you for a minute?" Not wanting to make him angry, I approached his desk and took a seat. The room was empty.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" I asked. Mr. Garrison looked at me for a minute, and then took out my poem. "Um, Stanley, it's about your poem. I noticed that you often included the words 'you' and 'I'. Do you know who 'I' is?" That was a joke question. "Well me, of course." I responded. "And do you know who 'you' is?" I couldn't tell him that I loved Kyle. " It can be anyone you want it to be." I lied. Mr. Garrison started growing concerned. "Well I think this might be," He then leaned in and whispered into my ear "Gay." I looked at Mr. Garrison and knew exactly what he was talking about. "Well what's wrong with that?" I responded. Mr. Garrison suddenly grew angry at me.

"What's wrong with it? WHAT'S WRONG WITH IT?" he yelled. "You honestly believe that it's normal for a man to stick his dick into a guy's ass?" he retorted. I have to admit, I was partly confused with what he said. I was going to contradict when he continued. "Well it's not ok! Admitting you like it is gonna get you in serious trouble!" he then changed his tone. "Well Stanley, who is your little lover?" he demanded. I felt a lump in my throat. "I don't know." I lied. I thought that he would continue to retort until I spat it out. However he didn't bother, "Well you better cut the crap! Now get the hell out of my classroom!" I did as he said.

I knew now that I have read to Kyle, that it would be the right time to confess everything. Mr. Garrison is absolutley right. I am gay. I'm gay, and I'm proud.

I quickly decided that lunch will be the best time to do so. So until then, I refused to make any interactions with him. During gym, I didn't pick him to be on my team in dodgeball. In history, I didn't pair up with him for the group assignment. I didn't even talk to him in the hall. I just had to make it to lunch.

Lunch has finally arrived and I was the first one in the cafeteria. I usually would stand with Kyle in the lunch line, but today I packed my own lunch and sat at a table in the corner. Kyle and the others went to the lunch line and sat at the usual table. They seemed to not mind my absence, except for Kyle of course, who although was talking, didn't seem like he was interested. I then approached the table and told him. "I want to talk to you outside." Kyle obeyed and followed me outside into the hallway.

"What's going on?" he asked nervously. "You haven't talked to me all day!" I knew that I had been a little cruel to him. "You know that poem I read this morning?" I asked him. "Yeah, it just seemed like a bunch of metaphorical and crap." he replied. "Well, to be honest," I started "I wrote it about you."

Kyle seemed a little shocked. "What?" he said shockingly. "Kyle, I know this seems wrong but...I love you!" I confessed. There, it was out there. I waited nervously as he absorbed what I said. After a minute, he responded "Stan...I love you too!" I was suddenly relieved by this. And we then hugged each other. "I was worried that you wouldn't love me back." I stated. "Are you kidding?" he replied "What would make you think that?" I wasn't sure exactly. We then walked back into the cafeteria.

**Hoped you enjoyed this chapter. I will update this as soon as possible. Please stick around, things are about to get A LOT more interesting.**

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own any of this. That distinction goes to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**

**Kyle's POV**

Boy was I relieved. Now that I know that Stan loves me back. We both decided not to tell anyone about our little relationship, especially the fatass. For the rest of the day, we both interacted as we normally would, avoiding temptations of closeness. I took off my ushanka a couple of times in the hall, of course when I was near Stan. I could tell that he wanted to run his hand through my afro.I could see it in his And to be honest, I found his running hand to be arousing. However he fought to resist the urge.

After school, we would normally take the bus home. However with our newly formed relationship, we decided to walk home together. We had planned to spend the afternoon at my house to hopefully make out. I knew that it was too early, but it proved quite obvious that we were both in on it.

"So what do you plan to do?" I asked. I knew that that was the most retarded I could ask. He immediately replied "I'm going over to your house, right?" "Of course." I said. We continued walking.

"So what was your poem about?" he asked me. "I wrote it...about you." I told him. Yes, it was true. Stan is such a respectable person that I am proud to love and was fascinated to write about him. In fact, I never had a better writing about anything.

We continued walking and talking until we reached my house. "Well here we are." I announced. We both walked in as we normally would and everything that normally was going on was going on. My mom was currently feeding baby Ike as we walked in.

"Oh sorry Kyle, your friend can't stay over today." she stated. I was baffled and shocked by what she said. "What? Why?" I demanded. Mom then emerged from the kitchen to explain to me. "Well apparantly Kyle, your grades have been slipping lately." It was true. I have always had a crush on Stan. However it wasn't until last month that I started having true sexual feelings towards him. I guess I haven't been noticing my grades decling. "Well mister, you need to be studying! I don't want you to fail for the quarter." she stated.

"I understand Mrs. Broflovski." Stan told her. "Well Kyle, I guess I'll see you tomorrow." he finished. "Alright, I'll see you then." I responded. He then made his way to the front door and walked out. I looked through the window as he was walking out. I just couldn't take my eye off him until he was out of sight. He walked halfway down the street when my view was blocked by a house he was walking around. I then went upstairs as my mom instructed me and began studying.

**Stan's POV**

I thought it was rather unfair, that I couldn't stay. Especially on the exact day I found out Kyle's feelings to me. But I know I'll make out with him tomorrow, first thing.

My house was three streets away from Kyle's, so I wasn't walking too fast. The streets were barren as most of the grown ups were still at work. Occasionally a bike or a car would pass by. However, when I was about halfway from Kyle's house to my house I noticed a car coming from the end of the road. It was a normal car, so I continued to walk. As it slowly approached, I saw every detail on it. It was a black 2010 Chrysler 300. It had a black windsheild and I saw a silouette of the driver as he drove toward me. However it was probably someone with a new car. The Chrysler then pulled over by a house that was ahead of me. I figured that they would get out, but they didn't. This made me a little nervous. I walked quickly by the Chrysler, which was the only car on the entire road. As I passed the back, I heard the car door open. I could tell by the sound that it was the one in the backseat.

I then felt a grasping on my right shoulder, and it pulled me back. I quickly realized it was one of the men in the car. I reached my hands to the side of the car and held on. But it proved futile as the force pulled me into the car. I was then jammed into the middle seat, the door shut, and the car drove off.

There were two men sitting on my left and right. They were both wearing black trench coats. The guy on the left was a black guy, who had emerald eyes like Kyle's. He was rather muscular and had a wart on his right cheek. The guy on the right was a tall, thin man. He wasn't as muscular as the black guy, but he still looked like he could kill you in a single punch. He had sapphire eyes, just like mine. I couldn't see the driver very well. He was wearing a black cap over his head and he never turned back on the car trip. I had no idea where we were going, as the windows were too dark to see through. The car had a radio clock on it, just like any car. It was 2:53 when I was pulled in. I sat there in terror, uncertain of where we were going. "Excuse me, sir." I asked the driver "Where exactly are we going?" the driver didn't look back. He responded in a deep voice "Your favorite place in the world." I know he's lying. At 3:31, according to the clock, the car stopped, but it seemed like hours. The black man opened his door and yanked me out. The Chrysler was parked at the end of a dirt trail. The area was surrounded by trees and shrubbery. It was a cloudy day which reflected the snow on the ground. And before us was a small, wooden cabin. I have never been here before or where it is, but I know that it is nowhere in our little mountain town.

"COME ON YOU SHIT!" the black man screamed as he pushed me towards the cabin. The white man went to the door of the cabin and opened it. The driver remained in the car.

The cabin had one room in it, the bedroom. The interior was mainly concrete and had a shitty cot in the corner. The cabin also had on window which was unable to see through as it was blocked by shaggy curtains. And the other corner were two wooden baseball bats leaning against the wall. The two men then worked together and threw me onto the bed. They then went to the corner and each grabbed a bat. They then pummeled down on me. They were both very good with baseball bats, and I felt pain instantly racing through my veins. Blood quickly splattered onto the bed and onto the bats.

After what seemed like 20 minutes of beating, they got up and walked out the door with the blood stained bats. I saw black in a lot of places, but I was able to keep consciousness. I was withered with pain and laid on the bed for about five minutes. And then, another man came in.

The man was bald with a criminal face. He had brown eyes like Cartman, and had very big arms. He was wearing a white tank top and blue jeans, like mine. I quickly recognized who it was. It was the driver.

"What are you...doing here?" I trembled. "Word has been going around that you are a fucking faggot! Well I'm here to set you in your place YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!" he then jumped onto the bed. He took out a rusty blade. "Open your puny legs!" he demanded. I did as he told me. He took the blade and cut a slit into my jeans and underwear. He then began to strip down. I buried my face in the bed as he was doing so. He then jumped upon me, and started humping me.

"COME ON YOU FUCKING WASTE OF LIFE! HUMP!" he screamed. I started burying my face more into the bed and began sobbing. It wouldn't stop. It felt like it would never end, and there was no clock in there. He finally got up and I sat up with tear-stained cheeks. "Take off your pants!" he demanded. I decided to rebel. "No!" I said defiantly. The man then rolled up my left jacket sleeve, revealing my left wrist. He then took out his blade and cut deep into my wrist, and he slowly dragged it along. Although I decided as he was cutting to strip he wouldn't stop. He left a long mark that runs the length of my wrist. I took off my pants.

The instant my pants were dropped, he said "Now, put them back on!" he demanded. I once again rebelled. He then rolled up my right jacket sleeve, and left a mark on my right wrist. I did as he told me.

He then took out a long, rubber stick. I immediately recognized it as a dildo. It was pink and was about 2 feet long. He brought one of the ends to the stick and sucked on it. I looked on in horror as he did this. Afterwards, he jammed it down my throat, making sure the end he was sucking on was down there. He started rubbing it vigorously up and down my throat. He seemed to really pleasure it. I nearly asphixiated when he was done. He then proceeded to beat me until I was dead. I curled up into a ball as he did this, hoping he would stop. But he didn't, I knew he wouldn't stop until I was dead, so I faked. I closed my eyes and went limp. The beating stopped. I was a little worried that he would find out I was faking. Actually, that's an understatement. I was terrified. I knew that he would beat me harder if he found out I was faking. But he didn't bother looking for evidence. I then heard the door open and the car starting. I opened my eyes and saw the car lights illuminating through the curtains as the car pulled away.

I laid down thinking about what had happened. I had been raped.

I curled up into a ball and sobbed quietly. I was all alone.

**To Be Continued**

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own any of this. That distinction goes to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**

**Kyle's POV**

My alarm clock didn't go off the next morning. I don't know if I snoozed it by accident or if the power went out. Either way, my mother was pounding on the door.

"KYLE! GET UP OR YOU'LL MISS THE BUS!" I had no idea what time it was. So I quickly got changed into my clothing and went downstairs. I walked out the door before my mom could retort on me. I also ate no breakfast. I had to do something that I felt was more important. I excitedly walked to the bus stop to greet Stan. When I finally got there, I saw Kenny in his normal parka and Cartman. Noticing, he came to harass.

"Oh hey Jew fag! Where's your faggy boyfriend?" he bullied. All I could say was "Where's Stan?" The three of us stood there for a minute. Kenny decided to break the ice by suggesting "He's probably out sick." it could've been a possibility, but I'm afraid I couldn't believe it. Stan couldn't be sick. And what could he be sick of? Me? I couldn't think of it. "Well maybe you're too faggy for him!" Cartman scolded. "Shut your mouth, Cartman!" I fought back. However, that could've been another possibility. But he still looked like he wants me and I want him...a lot.

Suddenly, the bus pulled up and the three of us got on. I sat in the back where me and Stan usually sit, Kenny sat in the middle, while Cartman, unusually, was sitting in the front seat. It's strange. Cartman never sits in the front, ever! He's always hated it because everyone can see what you're doing. But it also gives you protection to the bus driver from the others. Why would Cartman need protection? I just had to find out. When we arrived, the first place I went to is my locker. Attached to it was a piece of paper. I snatched and read it.

_Dear Kyle,_

_I'm not in school today. I am sleeping right now, dreaming of you. They're just too good to wake up from._

_- Stan_

I now think that Cartman has something to do with Stan's absence. I needed to talk to him immediately. I arrived in Mr. Garrison's class a few minutes before the bell rang, by then everyone was in there talking amongst their friends. I walked over to Cartman who was talking to Butters. "What ya do?" I demanded. Cartman turned towards me. "Oh, hey Jew fag. Didn't see you making out!" he bullied. "Oh that's a good one!" Butters said agreeing with him. They then high fived. "Answer me damn it!" I repeated. "Kyle, I have no idea what you're talking about." he lied. "You know what I'm talking about!" I repeated a third time. "What did you do to Stan?" Cartman turned his back on me and continued talking to Butters. I knew any further attempts wouldn't get me anywhere and took a seat.

School went by slowly that day without Stan. I kept my eye out for Cartman, seeing if he was doing anything suspicious. But I didn't find anything. Either he didn't do it or he's purposely giving me false information. Probably the second. The final bell finally rang and the people filed out quickly. I decided not to follow Cartman as I wouldn't get anywhere. I decided to go to Stan's house where I know I'll get the truth. I then headed towards Stan's house as fast as I could.

As I ran I knew I was getting closer to my love and the truth. In a matter of minutes I found myself on his front doorstep. I then knocked the door, trying to seem unconcerned. There was no response. I knocked again, and there was no response. I looked to the right and a saw a car, which meant someone was home. I then made another discovery, the door was unlocked. I opened the door and found it barren. I knew there was someone home so I gave a signal "Hello" I said softly. No response. I looked around a little bit until I found someone in the living room. It was Mrs. Marsh sitting in a chair by the window, silent. I knew that she could hear my greeting, but probably ignored. I grew worried that something was wrong.

I walked slowly and solemnly into the living room and approached her. "Mrs. Marsh" I said slowly. This was enough to get her attention and she faced me. "Oh hello Kyle." she whispered. I could tell she has figured out why I was here. Because before I could say anything, she continued. "I'd figure you'd might come here." she stated. I reminded her "Stan wasn't in school today." boy was that a mistake. Because she started tearing up, and I could tell this wasn't the first time today. "Oh Stan! He's gone-" she sounded like she couldn't continue. I then got closer to her. " He's gone...MISSING!" she then started to break down. I then placed my hand on her shoulder.

Missing? How could that have happened? I wanted to ask more questions, but I didn't want to bring her down anymore. I stood by her side for a few minutes, I then proceeded to the door to leave her alone. She didn't see me leave.

I knew there was only one place to go to now, the South Park Police Department. I would have to walk through downtown to get there, but I didn't really care. I actually ran through the sidewalks to get there. I almost got there without stopping. However, as I ran down the road I noticed something. It was a piece of paper on the window to Tom's Rhinoplasty. I knew I had to get to the Police Station, but the piece of paper distracted me.

I ended up crossing the street without using the crosswalk. I just had to see that paper. However when I reached it, I thought I was gonna die. It was poster.

_MISSING_

_STAN MARSH_

Below was a picture of Stan. Below that it read.

_IF YOU SEE THIS BOY, PLEASE CONTACT THE AT SPPD_

I knew my only option was to take part in the search. So I snatched the poster, and placed it in my pocket. I then arrived at the Police Station where I walked into a door that had " " printed on it. I then saw sitting at his desk ignoring my presence. "Excuse me, sir." This causes the sargeant to look up at me. "Well what brings you down here?" he asked. I approached his desk and sat down at the chair before. I then responded "I would like to join the search." looked at me "Which search?" like he actually didn't know. I took out the poster I snatched and placed it on his desk. Yates picked it up and looked at it. He then handed it back to me. "Well that's very brave of you. However we can't recruit minors on a search party." I was rather suprised by this statement. "Excuse me?" "Listen, search parties for cases like these can end up in some pretty dangerous situations. It is our duty to keep you kids safe."

"But-" I started "But he's my best friend." I couldn't tell him about our relationship. "I understand. But I can't let you get killed out there. What am I gonna tell your folks?" I got up to leave, now rather dejected. I then got an idea. " ?" he looked up "Is there anything I can do at all in this case?" I really am willing to do anything for my best friend. "Well for someone of your age and energy, we believe that you can go around informing people about the case." I brightened up. "I'll do it!" I replied. I then grabbed the poster and ran out of the office.

**To Be Continued**

**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own any of this. That distinction goes to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**

**Kyle's POV**

I wish I hadn't been so optimistic when I walked out. I wish I had known what it _truly _meant to be missing. I spent 2 hours going from door to door. At each one, I showed the person I met the poster and asked if they had seen him. Of course they all said no. However I was both determined and confident that I would find my boyfriend. I even resorted to going back to houses I already did, and of course they gave me the same answer.

I eventually came to realize that I wouldn't get anywhere by going from house to house. So I started towards downtown where there were a lot of people. I spent about an hour walking through the crowds, with the poster in hand, asking people. But it turned out to be rather similar to the door to door method.

As the time started draining by, the streets started getting less crowded, and my chances were slipping. Before I knew it, the streets were practically barren. I was about to give up hope when I saw three men walking by. Two of them had black trench coats. One was a black guy, while the other was a white guy. And in the middle was a bald guy who was wearing a white tank top and blue jeans. I walked up to them.

"Excuse me, you guys" I started "Have you seen this boy?" I held the poster up. The bald guy snatched the poster and observed it, with the others looking on. They started turning to each other, probably trying to come up with a consensus. After a minute or so, he handed me back the poster, and responded. "Nope. Haven't seen _that _guy." The two men by his side nodded their heads in agreement. They then walked past me as if they were in a hurry. The streets were now empty. I placed the poster in my pocket and started home.

As I was walking, my mind wandered. I was thinking about Stan. Is he still alive? Does he still love me? I tried to wisk my mind from thinking answers to such questions. I tried to think brightly and proudly. However the questions only came back to haunt me. I was aware that the possibility of him being dead was very real. I was also aware that even if he came back, that he wouldn't be the same. This horrified me.

I arrived at home, where I expected things to be normal when I normally got home. With Mom trying to feed baby Ike and dad reviewing files. However when I opened the door, it was silent. I was fairly certain that they had received the news on Stan's disappearance. I started walking around, finding where they might be possibly grieving. As I walked around, I noticed Ike also wasn't there. Where was he? Could he be grieving too? Probably not. We don't even know if Stan's dead. After checking the main level, I proceeded upstairs. When I reached the top of the stairs, I heard soft wailing. I knew it was my parents.

I approached my parents' door and knocked gently. "Who is it?" my mom said in a low, broken voice. This confirmed that neither of my parents noticed my presence now. She knew I would normally be home around this time from Stan's. I'd reckon she will probably be wondering what I was doing with Stan to occupy my time.

Without answering her question, I opened the door. Both my parents were sitting on the edge of their bed. Mom was sobbing quietly, while Dad was trying hard to suppress his emotions. After noting my presence for a minute, Mom was able to speak up.

"Kyle...you're probably wondering...why your friend Stan...wasn't here today." she stated. I could tell in her voice that with every word that exited her mouth, it became harder to talk. Not wanting to make her stress anymore than I had to, I started speaking in a spontaneous tone, "Yes, I'm supposing he was out sick."

I must admit, that probably wasn't the best thing to say. Because Mom then grew more emotional, fearing of _"breaking my heart"_. I continued to listen. "Well...me and your father got...unfortunate news from Mr. and ." she said hesitantly. She then buried her face into her hands. My dad continued. "Kyle, I'm afraid your little friend has disappeared" he stated. He then tended to comfort Mom. I couldn't tell them about what I did afterschool, so I acted shocked and surprised. "Disappeared?" Dad then started losing his cool as well. However I was able to suppress my sadness and anger for once again being reminded of what happened. I know I can't forget the situation at hand however it can really be tough, knowing that something that matters a lot to you could suddenly disappear from something unfathomable. I then turned to leave them alone. I closed there door and noticed Ike in front of me. He appeared to be confused by what was happening. I picked him up and took him to his room to put him down for a nap. I figured it would be the right thing to do, since he was only a baby. However I still couldn't help but notice his confused look. He also appeared to actually _want_ to know what was going on. I ignored it, and ended up going straight to bed.

I couldn't sleep. As I tossed and turned, I couldn't stop thinking of Stan. I tried to pretend that something else was causing the situation. Perhaps I slept very well the night before. Did I somehow get 2 nights worth of sleep in one? Or it could've been something else. 5 is early to be going to bed, right? I tried to pretend, but it just didn't work. I knew exactly why I couldn't sleep. I then started to sob quietly. I was nervous. _Really _nervous.

After about 15 minutes, I had finished sobbing and tried to get back to sleep. However it obviously was useless. I eventually decided that I couldn't do it anymore. I just _had _to find him. I got up and got out a sheet of paper. I got a pen and started writing.

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_I am well aware that there are search parties working at the moment. However it just can't be enough. I am writing to you to inform you that I am joining the search. Don't worry, as long as I am with the police party I will be perfectly safe. I will find Stan. I'll be home soon._

_-Kyle_

I honestly lied. There was no way the police would recruit me into a search party. But my Mom will worry sick if I told her I would be searching alone. I placed the letter on my bed. I quickly got dressed and opened the window. I hopped out and was on my way. I will find Stan.

**To Be Continued**

**Please Review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own any of this. That distinction goes to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**

**Kyle's POV**

According to my alarm clock, I had left at about 5 AM. It was still pitch black out, but the sun would be up fairly early today. I decided to go to Stark's Pond first, as it was the most obvious place to start off in. It was also the closet, a good five minute walk through town. As I walked through the streets, houses, and businesses, I hollered out Stan's name. I had tried to keep it at a minimal whisper, as I didn't want to wake the neighbors.

Over the walk I got no response, as predicted. I guess all I really wanted to accomplish from the whispering was to get a spurt of optimism and feeling of being with him. As I had guessed, the sun had started to shine over the mountains as I approached the lake. Once there, I walked the shoreline, shouting his name now away from civilization. I was literally getting a blistering headache as I continued screaming and hearing his name being echoed.

After walking along the shore for a number of minutes, I stopped shouting, trying to tone down the headache. I then heard a soft sound. At first it was just my imagination. To see if this sound was real, I slapped myself across the face. I felt the pain sizzle along my right cheek, if there was anything I had imagined, it would've definitely been wiped away. I continued hearing the sound. I then stuck my middle finger into my ear to clean it. I repeated for the other. The sound did not cease. I had accepted the fact that it was a real sound, and proceeded to walk towards it.

My mind flushed with possibilities, as to what the sound was. Was it the wailing of Stan on his deathbed? Was he being brutally murdered by a wild animal? Or even a person? I refused to accept such chances. _"Well what the hell is it?"_ I thought. It really could've been anything from anywhere. For a short time as I was walking, the sound didn't grow louder. I then thought _"Was I making the sound?"_ and if so, what could _it _have been? Was my heart racing? Was my stomach churning? Was my brain exploding? Or did my imagination suddenly popping steroids?

Then, after walking a little further, I heard the sound get louder. I knew now I wasn't making it. It was still too soft to identify, and my mind continued to wonder. With every step the sound became louder and more recognizable. Nervous, I started dashing, just dying to know where it was coming from. Even as it was becoming louder, I _still_ couldn't recognize the damn thing. The sky had become bright enough for sillouettes to illuminate the ground. And then I saw it, at an inlet, where the 'Stark's Pond' sign stood, was a figure. That must've been the source of the sound. I walked slowly and solemnly towards the figure. Since it was but a sillouette, wild possibilities of what it or he or she could've been, had kept me from sprinting towards it or he or she.

I was about five feet from the figure when I recognized it. It was Stan's girlfriend, Wendy.

She was sitting on the single log that acted as a bench at the lake's main entrance. It was also then that I recognized the sound, she was sobbing with her face buried in her hands. I slowly approached her to try to comfort her, and maybe even recruit her onto my search party. I was now directly behind her, "Oh hey, Wendy." it was almost as if I was made of air. I tried again, this time rewording my statement, "What's wrong Wendy?" this time she noticed me. She then turned towards me and replied sobbingly "Oh hi, Kyle," I walked in front of the log and took a seat next to her. "What's wrong?" I repeated. As if I didn't know what was wrong. "Oh Kyle, you rpobably heard the news. About Stan." she was barely able to get that statement out of her mouth. Unlike from when I was talking to my parents, I was straight honest. "Yes, I have heard the grim news." I responded. "I'm worried, Kyle! Reall worried!" she then buried her face into my chest and broke down.

"I'm sure they'll find them." I comforted. However it proved to be rather flimsy when Wendy responded, "I know. But my man is in danger! What if he dies?" this retort upset me a little bit, and it made me pity Wendy. I'm Stan's man. And she's gonna have to be forced to face the truth someday. I put the thought in the back in the back of my head, however, and continued, "But Wendy, I _know_ he'll be found." I started "So that's why I started a search party."

Wendy raised her head, and looked at me. "You are?" she asked. I saw her spirits rising. However I also saw a negative expression in her face. I nodded my head to verify the fact to her.

"Well who's in your party?"

"Just me right now." I then saw this as the opportunity to recruit her, "However with you along, I'm sure we will find him for sure! What do ya say?" I said cheerfully. She suddenly grew rather sad when I said this. I observed this and responded. "Well what's wrong? Don't you want to help him?" she looked at me in the eye. "I really want to join in Kyle." she stated "But I can't. I just can't." she finished. I was shocked by this answer and really wondered why she answered so on the contrary, "Why don't you want to join in?" I asked. She then grew sadder by this statement, "I can't afford to see him like this." she answered.

I was confused, "What do you mean?" I demanded. She took a deep breath, "Look Kyle, Stan is a good person. He's everything a kid can be. Think about it, he should be happy and running around, and laughing. However this is very serious, he is probably scared beyond his mind." I understood the sentiment. "But Wendy, when we find him, he will want to be with you and me. We _are _the two closet people to him." I explained. "I know. But what if Kyle?" she started raising her voice, "What if he isn't alive? I can't afford to see his suffered body so disrespected!" she started breaking down again. I got up and left, figuring she doesn't appreciate my presence.

I did my best to evade the town of South Park. Not only would it prove to be a waste of time looking, but it would also spark trouble as a result of people finding me from my absence. I went into the woods that rim Stark's Pond and did my absolute best to manuever around the town borders. I had my cell phone on me, however it was on silent. I took it out and read the time on its built-in clock. It was 6:30, by then the sun was up. It would be about another half hour before my parents notice I'm missing, so I better be moving. After 10 minutes I was fairly certain that I was completley around, so I started going in a straight direction.

I was in the woods, with tall standing trees. I think I'm going west, as the sun is directly behind me. I also assuming that it'll take me straight to a highway. I hoping that I'm right.

I was walking when I suddenly remembered something. My mom had implemented a tracking chip onto my phone so she could find me if I ever went missing. Damn. But it also has a GPS on it. So I took out my phone and checked the GPS. There was a red, blinking spot on the screen that shows my location, or should I say, my phone's location. And sure enough, it showed the area around me. I then observed a road about a mile from where I was standing. Luckily it was west, which was the direction I was headed. I then started in the direction I had been heading. But before I proceeded, I threw the phone as hard as I could against a tree. I have to admit, I'm not the strongest person in the world, but I also could've blamed it on the protective layer my mom padded onto the phone. I picked it up again, and slammed it harder into the tree. Nothing. I tried to remove the protective layer, however it was stuck like glue. I then grabbed the phone and slammed it repeatedly. It took a little bit, but the phone finally started smashing to pieces. I scattered the pieces, and continued. God, I really hope that didn't take too long.

I continued west like the GPS said, and sure enough I reached a road. It was barren, like a lot of the roads back in South Park are around this time. I turned to the left and the road continued seemingly endless. I turned to my right and the road also didn't seem to cease. I was uncertain which one I should go, but more importantly which one would take me back to South Park. After thinking about the route I had taken, I decided to go to the right or north. It was a long walk. I wasn't exactly sure how long, but I wasn't finding any traces. The road was so barren, I even resorted to look in the road itself for any clues, but nothing.

I continued walking along the side of the road when a car finally appeared. It was a black 2010 Chrysler 300 and was driving along my lane, towards me. The car finally reached me and slowly drove along my side. The shotgun window opened and a man popped his head out of it. I couldn't believe it. It was the white guy in the black trench coat. The same one I saw on the road. And sure enough, the bald guy with the white tanktop was driving. The white guy had his black trench coat, he was tall and muscular. But the detail that shocked me most were his eyes. They were sapphire, just like Stan's. And the bald guy had brown eyes. "Hey kid, aren't you a little young to be out on the road on your own?" the white guy asked. "Oh don't worry, I'm fine." I responded. The white guy seemed a little uneasy about this. "What'ya doing out here then?" like he actually doesn't know. But I answered anyway, "I'm just looking for my friend." the white guy quickly turned to the bald guy, who was driving. The bald guy then spoke up, "Weren't you that kid we walked by yesterday?" I immediately replied "Yes, have you seen my friend?". This time the car stopped, and I stopped as well. After a minute, the white guy spoke up, "Well no, however we would be very interested in helping you," he stated "Would you like to ride with us in the car?" he offered. My parents have always told me to never say 'yes' to strangers. However this was Stan. I'd be willing to do anything. I nodded my head, opened the door, and got in.

The inside of the car was rather strange. You couldn't see shit through the windows, and yet the bald guy was able to see perfectly fine. I turned to my left, where I saw the black guy sitting next to me. He was even bigger than the white guy and had emerald eyes, like mine.

The bald guy took out his cell phone and dialed a number. He waited a minute for the other person to pick up and began talking.

"Yeah, we have it...I'm taking it over right now." I have no idea what "it" is. I leaned in a little bit to try to listen to the other end. However the black guy pulled me back into my seat.

"Yes, I'll make sure it is disposed of...Yes, I'm sure that it's still there...Yes I'm sure!" What the hell is "it"? And why wouldn't "it" still be there. I once again leaned in to try to listen on, but was once again pulled back by the black guy.

"Don't worry, I'll dispose of it when we're through with it...Alright." he then hung up and continued driving. He then announced to me something, "Pardon us, but we need to make a quick stop somewhere." I then wondered where we were stopping. What could be more damn important than the search? "Where are we stopping?" I asked. "Oh we just need to stop somewhere. Need to do something real quick." I was disappointed the search had to be delayed, but I allowed them to stop.

A few minutes later, the car stopped and the men got out. The bald guy told me, "Just stay in the car." he then took off with the others. That statement made me a little suspicious, but I mainly ignored it. I was too busy thinking of Stan.

I sat in the car, thinking, when my mind totally changed focus. I started hearing a blood curdling scream. This sent shivers down my spine. I tried to ignore it, but they onl continued like torrential rainfall. I couldn't help but thinking of what they were doing in there. I slowly opened the car door and got out. I was well aware that they didn't want me out here. I then saw a small cabin with a single window in it. Surrounding it were towering trees. I approached the window to see what was going on, but my view was blocked by raggy curtains. The screams got louder, became more frequent, and lasted longer. I was terrified by this, and made a run for the woods, and hid behind the bushes to wait it out.

A few minutes later, the screaming ceased, and the men came out the front door. They got into the car. I was hoping they would just drive off, but the black guy noticed my absence. "Hey! Where the hell did he go?" he yelled. "He'll find out about it!" the white guy replied. What was he talking about? "We gotta find him!" the bald guy commanded. The three men then splitterd up and searched the area. I acted quickly by moving deeper into the woods to wait it out. I hid behind another patch of bushes nearby. Everything seemed alright, until the black guy started coming in my direction. I sank lower into the bushes. "Hey guys! I think I see something!" he reported. I silently started burying myself in the snow when the black guy wasn't looking. I heard the footsteps of the other men and my heart started racing. When it appeared that they arrived I was pretty sure I wwas completley covered. I got my answer when the bald guy responded, "I don't see shit!" "Me neither!" the white guy responded. I was relieved, "Well it looks like he got away. Damn it! Now we have to kill him too!" the bald guy avenged. I heard footsteps again. I slowly looked up and saw they were walking away. Within 30 seconds they were in the car, and they drove off.

I was now deeply concerned. I was wanted by suspectable murderers. I waited until they were out of sight and rose from the snow. I slowly and solemnly apporached the cabin to see what the commotion was. Within a minute or two, I was at the front door of the cabin. I took a deep breath, preparing for what I was about to see, and slowl opened the door. There was blood splattered across the walls and on the floor. In the corner were two baseball bats that were also splattered with blood. But the thing that drew my attention was on the bed. There was someone on the bed covered in blood. He was in a ball, sobbing. I immediately knew who it was. It was Stan.

**To Be Continued**

**Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own any of this. That distinction goes to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**

**Kyle's POV**

He practically looked dead. Although his shaking and sobbing were quite easily recognizable, he was just dead. I was going to call 911, but I broke my phone earlier. Apart of me didn't want to do it anyways, thinking I could comfort him myself. However, it showed quite frankly and clearly that he needed to go to the hospital immediately.

Stan has a phone, right? He had too. He just had too. Obviously, there is no way in hell that I would even be able to get his attention. So I reached my hand over into jacket pocket, but found nothing. I moved down to his pants pocket, and sure enough found a cell phone. I was amazed of how _this_ survived the blows. All I hope is that it still has some batter in it. I was able to turn it on, when I saw a number code. Damn. Luckily I know Stan well enough to know it. I entered my birthday 0526, it didn't budge. I didn't understand, that was always his code. He would tell me if he changed it. I then entered his birthday, 1019, it still didn't turn on. Now, I was getting a little frustrated. I then entered our ages in, 1010, it didn't work. At that point, I decided to ask Stan, "Excuse me?" no response. I was aware that he couldn't speak, but he would probably die if he didn't. So I asked again, "Excuse me?" still no response. I started to think this through. Did he even know I was there? Did he still care about me?

This was all going downhill, fast. I figured there was only one option left. I proceeded to hoist Stan from the bed. It was difficult, but he wasn't reacting at all. I then got him over my shoulder and moved out the door. I had several doubts in doing what I was doing. What if they came back? What if I didn't get him fast enough? I had to take precautions but was also aware that this was the only way.

When we got outside, the area was empty. I was relieved that they weren't there. I noticed that right in front of me was a dirt road with tire tracks printed on them. I started to follow the tracks and the road. It was long and winding with towering trees lining the sides. Stan was fairly light and easy to carry. A couple of times, his sobbing would get to me, however I was able to get used to it and keep my head high. We finally reached the end of the road, and on either side was the paved road. I looked down and noticed the tire tracks merging in both directions. One must've been when it was going in, the other for going out. _"Which one's which?"_ I asked myself. I looked up to the sun for some assisstance. It was already in the sky on my left. That should take me back to South Park. I mean it is the other direction. I don't think they made any turns.

Normally, I would've help Stan walk, but apparantly I don't think he's either physically or emotionally capable of doing so. And to be honest, as I was carrying him, I started getting very comfortable. Damn it! I just can't stop thinking about that shit. But I guess it's alright, I mean we did confess our love. I wonder if he he still love me? And if so, would it be the right time to think about sex? Probably not, but I always find ourselves to be the exception.

After a while, Stan stopped sobbing. I found this as a perfect opportunity to talk to him, "Hey Stan, it's me." there was no response. I tried again, "Stan, it's me." still, no response. It crossed my mind that he was just refusing to talk, but this was ridiculous. He was acting like a zombie. I came to the conclusion that he just needed some more time, so I continued walking.

I started getting the sensation that I was the wrong way. But it had made no sense. I recalled exiting South Park from the west and went in a straight line. I also recalled that the car I was in only turned once, that right into the cabin. Although this was an interstate, it sure didn't look like one. It was a one lane road with no signs nor cars anywhere in sight. The mountains were completley hidden by trees which absolutley sucked. If I recall correctly, there is a mountain on the east side of town. To the normal eye, it just looked like a standard mountain that was like all the others in town. But I saw it differently. It was fairly strange, but it reminded me of my baby brother, Ike. I'm pretty sure the mountain itself is younger than its neighbors. It definitely is shorter than the others. But the thing that reminds me most is hope. To me, it shows how even though the odds are against you, things will surely come. And Ike is just a baby, but with some time and care, he will grow up to be a man. I often use it to find my way when I'm lost. I'm afraid that here, I'll just have to use my instinct and the sun to find my way.

The sun was high in the sky, I'd figure it is around noon. Stan has not spoken a word. I know that he's not in a good mood, however nobody could be so quiet. I once again tried to initiate conversation,"So what happened?" I asked, though probably not the best question. I immediately knew he would not want to answer such a question. I tried something else, "It's me." I had repeated over and over. Still no response. I decided to try one more time, "Do you love me?" though there was no response. This got me concerned. Maybe he didn't love me after all. Yet again, I'm not sure if he paid attention or even know where he is. This finally irritated to the point of expression, "Can't you fucking listen to me for once?" I yelled, "You don't have to respond to my god damn questions, but the least you can do is fucking listen!" I retorted. As I was yelling, I don't think I really was paying attention to Stan himself. I suddenly felt my right shoulder, free itself. I must've let him fall to the ground. I looked down in horror and noted that he wasn't moving.

I don't know if he's alive or not. Is he too weak to move? That's what I'm hoping. "Stan?" I asked as I gently kicked him. He did not move. "Stan?" I repeated in a louder tone. He still didn't move. I kicked him over so his face was showing. The sight horrified me. His face was bloody, full of cuts and scars, and had pale skin. But the thing that really concerned me were his closed, emotionless eyes and his expressionless mouth. The thought then rushed into my mind. The possibility of him dying is very real.

I brought him back onto my shoulders. "HELP!" I screamed at the top of lungs. I know there is probably nobody nearby, however I thought it could help. I did this until my voice nearly ceased. I took out Stan's phone again to try to crack the code, but it was no good. I turned the phone around, opened a flap, and removed its battery. I then placed it back in. I thought perhaps it would work, however it didn't. Oh why? Oh why did I have to break _my_ phone? I realize that there isn't a lot of time. So, grabbing Stan, I started to sprint. I'm not the fastest runner in the world, especially while carrying a body, however I had to push if I had any chance of saving my friend. I continued running and did not stop. I then felt my body falling forward. I crashed to the ground with Stan by my side.

I looked behind and saw what had happened. I tripped on a rock, a big rock to be precise. I tried getting up to go over to Stan, but my right leg wouldn't allow it. I felt a sharp pain on my right ankle. It can't be! It can't be! I got back down to observe it. After feeling the muscles down there, I concluded that it wasn't a sprain. I then felt my tibia and couldn't believe. I had fractured my ankle. I didn't care, because Stan needed to get to the hospital more than I did. I got onto my feet and grabbed him. I tried to run, but my ankle wouldn't allow it. I kept on falling, and falling, and falling. I could feel that the ankle was getting worse with every bold attempt.

I just couldn't do it anymore. I could barely even get up now as my ankle somehow forced me back down. I then started to break down, alongside the road. My best friend was going to die, at my hands. Who knows? Maybe someday, they'll discover our bodies along this empty place.

I looked at Stan directly, vision blurred by tears. I thought about all I could've done to save him, all the things we were going to do; go to middle school, high school, drving, drinking-I can't continue. After what seemed like a little bit, I heard a voice. I turned around to see who it was. It turned out to be a man in a red car. He had blonde hair, had sunglasses, and was wearing a white V-neck. "Do you need anything?" the man asked. I brightened up. "Yes, can we borrow your phone?" I asked sobbingly. The man then handed over his cell phone. I immediately call 911. I sat there for a second while waiting for it to pick up. An automated voice picked up, "911, what is your emergency?" it said. I took a deep breath, and spoke quickly, "My friend has been beaten badly and is dying alongside the road." the other end changed to a woman's voice and started talking, "Which road are you along?" she asked. I looked up and asked him the question. The man told us the interstate. I then told the woman the interstate. I then hung up and handed the phone back. "Do you want me to take you two to the nearest town?" he asked. To be honest, I'd rather be taken back by the ambulance. "No thanks, but thanks for asking." I responded. The man then drove off.

Shortly afterwards, I heard sirens. That was probably the ambulance, like that was so hard to guess. I looked over as the ambulances and police cars sped towards us. They pulled over towards us in seconds and the paramedics got out. The police officers immediately noticed that it was Stan, who they had been looking for. One of the paramedics noticed me and walked over. "Is there something wrong?" he asked me. I probably couldn't walk to the ambulance, so I told him the truth. "I believe I fractured my ankle." I responded. The paramedic then rushed to the ambulance and returned moments later with some supplies. "Tell me if this hurts." he commanded. He then pressed his hand on my ankle. Pain immediately scolded it. "Yes." I said immediately. He then observed the ankle more closely and looked up a minute later. "Yep. This is definitely fractured," he announced "Can you tell how this happened?" he asked. I then told him the story. Afterwards, he ran to the ambulance. By this point, they have placed Stan on a strecther and were proceeding to take him to the ambulance. The paramedic then returned with a pair of crutches and a bandage. He quickly wrapped the bandage around my leg and gave me the crutches. "You should ride to the hospital on the ambulance. Once there, your ankle will endure some more testing." he announced. He then left to go place Stan onto the ambulance. Once he was in, he directed me to get in as well. The doors shut and the ambulance drove off.

On the ride to the hospital, I couldn't bear to see Stan. He looked like he was suffering greatly, and I couldn't afford to see him like that. The ride was only 2 minutes anyway. We have arrived at Hells Pass Hospital. The paramedics removed Stan faster and got him in the building before I could even get out. I was greeted by a paramedic outside. "Come on, we'll get you to a testing room right away." he commanded. "NO!" I yelled, "I have to see my friend!" I finished. "Your friend is going to be fine. Your ankle needs observation immediately." the paramedic announced. I wanted to continue this arguement, but I obeyed and followed him inside.

I was brought onto the elevator alongside the paramedic. Unlike Stan, I didn't have to be rushed in. We have stopped on the third floor, and the paramedic walked me to the testing room. The testing room had a single bed on it, some x-rays, and some supplies. "Sit down on the bed, the doctor will be right with you." he stated. He then left the room.

I couldn't think straight as I was in the room alone. My parents are probably on their way right now, but unlike usual, that didn't concern me. I was thinking of Stan. The thought of him dying was horrifying but by the way he looked, the chance seemed real. I didn't want to lose him. And I didn't want to lose him while I was having my fucking ankle checked. Fuck the ankle. That didn't matter. I was thinking of running to Stan's room at that instant when the doctor came in. "Well hello, little boy." he welcomed. He had black hair and sapphire eyes, the last thing I want to think about at that moment. He looked young, preferrably fresh out of medical school. I didn't ask for his name. "Alright, now I'm going to place this x-ray over your ankle." he announced. I allowed him. He place the big x-ray over the ankle and shot it very quickly. "Alright, now you just sit here and I'll be back in a few minutes." he then walked out of the room. Seriously? How long does this have to take?

A few minutes later, the doctor walked back in like he said. "Alright, now here's your ankle." he stated. He showed me an x-ray, which was about the size of a normal piece of paper. He then showed me a duplicate of the x-ray on an overhead. He then took out a red marker. "Alright, now do you see that fracture?" he asked. I didn't respond. He then marked it with the marker on the overhead. "Now for that, you're gonna need a cast." he announced. He quickly took off the bandage the paramedic put on from earlier. He then placed on the new cast. "Now I see that a paramedic has already provided you with a pair of crutches." he pointed out, "Now you'll need those for about a month, same thing for the cast." he finished.

At this point, I was not extremely impaitent. My parents have not arrived yet. They might've been in Stan's room. "Excuse me," I started "what room is Stan Marsh in?" I asked. The doctor turned to me. "Oh, he's down the hall in room 317. The doctors are currently working on him, but I guess you can go down and visit if you want." I couldn't believe it. "Thanks sir." I replied. I then got on my crutches and rushed down the hall. As I passed the rooms I skimmed along the numbers. Before I knew it, I approached the door. Next to it had a signed that read "Room 317". I happily opened the door and into the room. Stan was lying on the bed hooked up to the IV. The doctors have finished working on him. Surprisingly, none of his parents were there. Where the hell were they? Stan was in some sort of coma, so I was unable to speak to him. I looked around, seeing if there were any clipboards or laptops that had medical records, but they were nowhere to be found. I sat down at the seat closet to the bed. I was once again able to look at him. I then heard a voice coming from outside the room. "Look, there's somewhere in there.", I then heard the door open. It was . "Ah, you must be..." he started, "Kyle Broflovski," I answered, "I was the one who called 911." I finished. looked at me with realization. "And you are the paitent's..."he started, "Best friend." I answered. then looked up again. "Well since you just got here, I should probably fill you in. Please step outside for a moment." he commanded. I went through with it.

Once we were outside, he began to speak. "Listen, we have observed him and tried to fix him," he started. I began to get worried. "but I'm afraid that the wounds are too severe. We've estimated that he will most likely be dead within the hour." he finished. I stood there for a second in shock, then retaliated, "NO! IT ISN'T TRUE!" I then ran back into the room. I began to break down. His parents still weren't there. Don't they understand that their son is gonna die? I then started to recall everything that we did together. I was somewhat glad though, that my parents weren't there. I decided not to call everyone. As it turns out, I really wanted some alone time with Stan. I then looked up at the beaten body. Luckily, Stan was still wearing his trademark blue hat with the red poofball. I then directed my attention to the heart monitor. It had slowed quite considerably from when I first walked into the room. As it continued to slow, I still had so many questions unanswered. Did he still love me after this mess? Why did those men do this to him? And how much more? As I pondered these questions...the monitor flatlined. This immediately drove my attention. Stan was dead. Before I initally broke down, I leaned in and said to him, "Goodbye" His parents suddenly rushed in.

**To Be Continued**

**Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I do not own any of this. That distinction goes to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**

**Stan's POV**

As I was being carried in Kyle's arm, everything went away. The day, the place, but most importantly, him. One may suppose that I am dreaming, but I am not. I immediately entered some sort of prison. One where there is no guards, no inmates, and no day. It is somewhat like a maximum security prison, only more maximum. I can't see anything, I can't hear anything, I can't feel anything. I am literally frozen from where I am sitting in this little prison. I know nothing nor could recall or even remember. I am uncertain how time is passing. After a while, I figured how long I have been here. For a few minutes or a few months? I then saw something, I had no idea what it was. But a spark of light emerged into my dark cell. I wanted to go up and feel it, but I was still frozen in place. It truly was magnificent.

The spark then got brighter and appeared more protruding. As it got brighter, it also got bigger. Within what appeared to be a minute, it had gone from a dim spark to a bright hole. This hole then started to take form. It was turning into a rectangle going long way up. Once it had fully taken form, it then grew dimmer. I then noticed what it was. It turned out to be a door, just a simple white door with a golden handle. I then felt something throughout m body, and before I knew it I was once again able to move. I got up to approach this door. I'm actually wondering what was behind it.

I grabbed onto the handle and pulled down. Why isn't it a knob? Well that doesn't matter. Once I had the handle pressed down, I pulled the door to open it. I then saw a long, winding stairway. It somewhat looked like the stairway at my house, only that the stairs are golden and there are white walls on both ends. It seemed fairly long, but with my athletic legs I should be able to scale. I then proceeded to walk up. It appeared to be a lot easier than usual. So easy in fact, that even someone like Kyle could climb them. Hell, even Jimmy or even Timmy could climb them. The only problem was that the stairway was long, and I mean long. It's like walking up Mount Everest, but I know that they have to end at _some_ point. And sure enough, they did. At the top of the stairway was another door, looking exactly like the first one. I opened it.

Behind that door wasn't another staircase. Instead, there was an office. The walls were white like on the walls of the staircase, there were several golden chairs, and a secretary working at her golden desk. On my right, there is a small screen on the wall with a keyboard. I walked over to it to check it out. It was actually more of a computer filter. The title on the top said "Find Recipients" followed by several other filters.

_First Name_

_Last Name_

_Religion_

_Status_

_Date of Birth_

_Place of Birth_

_Date of Death_

_Place of Death_

_Cause of Death_

_Age at Death_

The filters towards the bottom grabbed my attention a little bit. I then realized what had happened. I have died. I died and I've gone up to Heaven. At the bottom of the screen I saw a tab bar.

_Today's Births_

_Today's Deaths_

_Yesterday's Births_

_Yesterday's Deaths_

_Tomorrow's Births_

_Tomorrow's Deaths_

Tomorrow? God fucking knows who's gonna die tomorrow? I moved the mouse and clicked on "Today's Deaths", there was then a long list that kept on being updated. There was the same set of filters on the list. So I went to "Last Name" and typed in "Marsh". And sure enough my name pulled up. On the left side of the screen was a picture of me, followed by my general information on the right.

_STAN MARSH_

_Full Name: Stanley Randall Marsh_

_Religion: Roman Catholic_

_Status: Deceased_

_Date of Birth: October 19, 2001 8:17 AM_

_Place of Birth: Hells Pass Hospital, 3007 Park Street, South Park, CO, USA, 80440_

_Date of Death: June 2, 2012 12:26 PM_

_Place of Death: Hells Pass Hospital, 3007 Park Street, South Park, CO, USA, 80440_

_Cause of Death: Cerebral hemorrhage, severe brain damage, cardiac arrest, broken ribs, punctured lung_

_Age at Death: 10_

Below was some personal information. I quickly skimmed through it. I noticed the word "Kyle Broflovski" was highlighted in blue. It turned out to be a link. I clicked on it and it brought up a similar page. However this one has Kyle's information on it. I decided to read it.

_KYLE BROFLOVSKI_

_Full Name: Kyle Broflovski_

_Religion: Jewish_

_Status: Living_

_Date of Birth: May 26, 2002 11:02 AM_

_Place of Birth: Hells Pass Hospital, 3007 Park Street, South Park, CO, USA, 80440_

_Date of Death: June 5, 2012 4:54 PM_

_Place of Death: 1002 Bonanza Street, South Park, CO, USA, 80440_

_Cause of Death: Asphyxiation_

_Age at Death: 10_

June 5? That's only 3 days away. God damn it! What the hell is asphyxiation? I need to know. I then heard a voice, "Excuse me sir," I looked over to see who it was. It was the secretary working at her desk. "You must be Stan Marsh, is that correct?" she asked. I nodded my head and she continued, "Welcome to Heaven, I will now take you to your room." I was frankly surprised by this statement. "My room?" I responded. She was kind enough to answer my question. "Why yes. Everyone here has their own personalized heaven suited for _their _needs. It wouldn't be fair to share one heaven with a bunch of strangers, now wouldn't it?" I then gave a clear response "Of course."

She then opened a door at the corner of the office which lead to a long hallway, possibly endless. She started walking down skimming along the hall's many doors and I followed behind. As we walked, I started wondering about that page, the one on Kyle. I wondered, how do they know that he only has three days to live. "Excuse me, ma'am," I started, "I couldn't help but notice that on your computer, I saw a page about a _living_ person." I finished. The woman wasn't offended by this remark. "Oh yes, He knows everything about everyone. Especially the living." she replied. I was well aware that He is in fact omnipotent. But I still wondered. "Well...is that...set in stone?" I asked. The woman once again gave me a clear reply, "Well yes, however I suppose there can be ways of altering the flow of events."

She then stopped. We have arrived."Well here we are, this is your personalized heaven." she stated. I however wasn't so sure. I was aware He is in fact omnipotent, however there were no labels on any of the doors. I wondered how this could've been mine out of the thousands I saw in all directions. I felt like a complete jackass doing this, but I asked her for clarification, "Are you sure this is mine?". The woman nodded her head. Although I was still unsure, I refrained from asking any further questions. I trusted her, and opened the door. The first thing I saw was my room, or at least it looked like it. I walked past it and looked behind, hoping to see the white door. But all I saw was the purple wall that covered the room. Everything had been exactly as I had left it. My computer was off to the side, my closet were full of my regular clothes, my bed was opposite of the desk with the computer on it, and there was a window on the wall I had walked in. I looked out the window, and sure enough I saw my backyard. I walked over to the door and opened it, and looked to my left and right. It was the exact hallway that was always there. Even the door made the same creak it had always made when I opened it. I couldn't believe it, the entire town of South Park has been recreated right here.

I walked back into my room. I was still curious about Kyle, so I went to the computer to see if there was anything. I moved the mouse a little bit and the monitor turned on. I immediately saw the same screen I saw back on the computer in the office. All the filters were still there and the tab bar was at the bottom. The onl difference was that there was a search engine on the right of the screen. I clicked on it and typed in "Kyle Broflovski". Unfortunately I got back possibly thousands of results for that name. It would probably take days to find him on this list. So I backed up to the filters. That's when I noticed something else. On the top left of the screen was a tab that read "News" so I quickly clicked on it. There was then a bunch of news articles for today June 2. The page had a tab bar on the bottom for different types of news.

_Top Stories_

_World_

_U.S._

_Business_

_Politics_

_Technology_

_Entertainment_

_Sports_

_Science_

_Health_

_Spotlight_

I scrolled on the mouse and clicked on "U.S.". This then brought me to a series of other tabs.

_National_

_Statewide_

_Local_

I then clicked on "Local" which brought up a search bar to enter zip codes. I clicked on it and entered in South Park's zip code, 80440. This brought up a series of articles. But the one that frightened me was the first one on the list with the headline "Child dies from beating", but that wasn't the one I was intending to find. I then noticed a calendar on the right side of the screen. There was a bolded box surrounding the 2nd date. I scorlled the mouse over to the next date, the 3rd. When my mouse hovered over it, a line formed under the 3. This allowed me to click on it. A second later, it loaded up the stories for June 3, the next day. I then scrolled over to the 5th day, and sure enough a line formed under the 5. I clicked on it and it loaded up the stories for June 5. The first article once again horrified me. I clicked on it and read it.

_CHILD KILLS SELF posted at 8:31 pm June 5, 2012_

_Sadness spreads rapidly over the quaint mountain town of South Park, CO as they lose another one of its children. Earlier today, 10 year old, Kyle Broflovski passed away at his home at 1002 Bonanza Street. At around 5 pm his mother, Sheila Broflovski had just finished dinner for her family. She called him down, however there was no response. She called him again, and there still was no response. She then ascended the stairs to Kyle's room to bring him down. However upon opening the door, her son was nowhere in sight. She then searched the other rooms of the home's second floor but little Broflovski wasn't found. She got her family members searching the house looking for the fellow boy. Sheila eventually found him in his closet. She was horrified at the sight. He was hanging not moving in there with his neck around a noose. Acting quickly, she called the EMTs to revive him. They had arrived at 5:17 pm. After observing him, they concluded that he had already been dead for more than half an hour. They were able to find a piece of paper in the boy's jacket pocket. According to the note, this hanging was deliberate and intentional, suicide. The note stats the boy's reason for committing such actions. Three days earlier, 10 year old, Stan Marsh had also passed away from severe injuries. Although there is an ongoing investigation regarding who beat this boy to death, he ultimately lead to Broflovski's death. There will be a memorial service for the two boys this Sunday._

I read the last few sentences several times. I killed him. My death led directly to his death. I just can't fucking believe it. I have to stop this. I just have to. There was a phone on my nightstand. I walked over to it and picked it up. Without dialing any numbers, I was immediately directed to a woman on the other end. "Heaven Services, what do you need?" she asked politely. I took a deep breath and spoke clearly into the phone, "Can I speak to He?" there was a brief moment of silence, then she responded. "Why He hasn't had a visitor in...ever." this surprised me. I honestly thought that there would be a long line. "Can I set up an appointment?" I asked to which she responded, "Why yes, in fact you can see him right now." this brightened me. But before I was able to put the phone down, I needed directions. "Where is He?" I asked, "Well let's see. What is your name?" she asked, "Stan Marsh" I responded. "Okay, Stan Marsh. For your heaven, he should be at the South Park Town Hall." she finished. "Thanks" that was all I was able to have exit my mouth before I put down the phone. I rushed down the stairs and saw my dad in the living room reading a newspaper. He didn't notice me running out the door.

I looked around the neighborhood as I ran down the road. Everything was exactly as it actually was, just as I had expected. But that wasn't my biggest concern right now. I was at the Town Hall in what seemed like but a minute. I then stopped. The town hall looked like it always has. However I have to be respectful for Him. So I walked up the stairs slowly and solemnly. It took as long to walk up as I ran here, although I could've scaled it in a matter of seconds. When I reached the door, I took a deep breath. And then, I opened the door slowly. The inside wasn't particulary like it was normally inside town hall. Instead, the inside was a hollow room. And the end was a large throne with He sitting in it. He was very big. He was wearing a white robe, brown sandals, and had a grey beard. I was literally unable to see his face. I was rather nervous at this point. "Um...hello...sir." I trembled. He then spoke in a deep but welcoming tone, "Hello Stan, what brings you here today?" I just stood there for a second.

"Um...sir...you probably know my best friend, Kyle Broflovski...and he is gonna commit suicide in three days...of course you yourself know this.." I stopped, growing nervous with every word. But I somehow found a way to continue, "Well maybe...I could come back...to stop him from killing himself..." I was uncertain of what he would say. He remained silent for a minute. I felt like I had been standing there for an eterinity when he finally spoke up. "I understand your concerns. But I'm afraid that destiny must follow its flow." this apalled me. He would actually allow my friend to kill himself. That's not the God I lived to believe. "But sir, he's gonna kill himself. Is there anything you can do?" I pleaded. "I'm sorry, but destiny and I agreed upon this in the beginning. If Kyle kills himself, then that shall be what happens." he stated. I was growing more surprised by this. "Sir," I started, "all my life I have told by my parents, my relatives, my friends, and even Priest Maxi that you are a benevolent god that truly is omnipotent. And here I am, talking to you, having all that logic being defied. It seems as if you're not appearing as omnipotent as I was told. So I'll let you carry on, because I now know the truth." I finished and started walking towards the door. I was then stopped by his voice, "I am capable of bringing you back." he announced. I was now at the door, but his voice made me turn back. "The thing is, if I send you back...you will not remember any of your experiences here in Heaven. You will be left in that same mood you last felt. I don't want you to be left with that burden. That's why I don't want to send you back. Forgive me for lying to you." he stated. I started walking slowly back to him. When I was back to where I originally stood, I reassured him. "Sir, I understand. But I don't want to go back for me. I want to do this for Kyle. I may come back not remembering this, but I'll get it to come back to me. And for the burden, I'll do my best to remember what happened here, and use it in my recovery. I know Kyle would be there to comfort me. And that's how I'll remember this." I finished.

He thought this over for a minute, like before. He then responded, "Alright, I'll give you a second chance. I wish you the best of luck." I was brightened by this. "Thanks sir, I'll do my best." I thanked. I then walked slowly out of the building and down the staircase. At the bottom was a door. It was white with a golden handle, like before. It was just in the middle of the sidewalk, it amazed me of how it was standing. I opened the door and walked in. I was immediately welcomed by the dark prison of nothingness that I was trapped in earlier.

**To Be Continued**

**Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**I do not own any of this. That distinction goes to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**

**Kyle's POV**

The door had barged open. They were most likely Stan's parents. "Sorry. The car broke down, so we had to run. Sorry." were the first words of . I felt invisible. Neither of them had been able to notice me or my unbearable sobbing. After a minute, spoke up again, yelling. "What the hell happened?" he demanded. He still failed to notice me. I looked up and saw walk into the room. "Ah, Mr. and , it sure is about time you got here." he greeted. immediately confronted him, "Look, I have been well aware in the news that my son has been missing for two god damn days. You better tell me what the hell is going on right now or I'll kick your ass!" he retorted. stood there for a minute, looking hesitant. He finally spoke up, "Certainly, you two better step outside for a moment.", the two complied and followed him outside. He tried to conceal his voice from me but obviously did a poor job of doing so.

"Your son has been found alongside this fellow, Kyle. While Kyle only has a fractured ankle, I'm afraid your son had a number of injuries, broken bones, severe bruises, and severe brain damage. We did what we could to help him. However, I'm afraid to tell you that he has slipped away just minutes ago. You may now reenter the room to see him."

That's when I decided to leave. I couldn't possibly bear to see him like this anymore. As his parents were walking in sobbingly, I grabbed my crutches and rushed out of the room. I wasn't stopped by them. I was out of the building in under a minute and continued through the somewhat melting snow. I decided to quickly bypass town and straight home. I even had to jaywalk through several streets in order to get home. I didn't think about my safety nor what people saw. When I reached my house, I opened the door and walked straight in. "There you are!" was the immediate first thing I heard from my mother, "Where have you been?" she demanded as I went straight for the stairs. As she walked into the foyer, she noticed my cast and crutches. She then grew all nervous, "What happened to your leg?" I had completely ignored her and went upstairs. "Young man, where do you think you're going?" she once again demanded. But I merely ignored her. I went straight for my room. I flung open the door, slammed it shut, and locked it. I approached my bed where I allowed my crutches to fall as I collapsed on the bed. I buried my face in the pillow and broke down.

**Wendy's POV**

I somehow found my way to school after leaving Stark's Pond. I had no mood nor energy to go to school, but I also couldn't afford having the police looking for me. I have arrived with only five minutes before the bell. By then everyone was already in class. As I took my seat next to my best friend, Bebe, I saw Stan's empty desk. Frankly, I m trying my best to not think of him. But with every glance or stare beaming at that desk, such a task had seemed impossible. My mind had wandered about his safety, and I didn't notice walk in. "Alright class, sorry I'm late." he greeted. This brought my attention back to the front of the class. He then took out his clipboard and quickly skimmed through the attendance. It took him about to get through the whole class. "Alright, so Stan's still missing and Kyle's absent. Great." apparantly I didn't notice Kyle wasn't there. I looked around me and sure enough, noticed a second empty desk that Kyle would usually occupy. It then hit me. I suddenly recalled Kyle talking to me earlier at Stark's Pond, he was out looking for Stan. I hope he finds him soon, because I'm really nervous now.

The day went on as normal for the most part, or at least, that's what I thought it was. The two boys just couldn't escape my mind and I didn't really pay attention to anything else. At around 9, we were all called down to the gymnasium for an assembly. We quickly filed out of the room and made our way. If only our class were furthest from the gym, that way we could sit in the front row. However, we were forced to fight for seats in the back, or should I say, top of the bleachers. I sat next to Bebe, as usual. In the front of the gym was a table with a bunch of papers on it. Standing near it was Sargeant Harrison Yates and . And in the center was a white screen. Once everyone had filed in, approached the podium, and the presentation began.

"M'kay kids, as some of you might already know, one of your fellow students has been missing for a few days now m'kay. With me now is the head of the Park County Police Force, . Now I want you to give him your best attention, m'kay." he then stepped down from the podium and came up. Before speaking, he turned on the white screen which showed a picture of Stan. "Thank you, school conseulor. Right now, police forces are looking for fourth grader, Stan Marsh. He was last seen on 1002 Bonanza Street two days ago." 1002 Bonanza Street? That's Kyle's house. He then continued. "Although you kids are too young to join a search party, you can spread the word about it. So what I have up here are a bunch of "missing" posters. Grab as many as you possibly can and hang them up around your school and the town of course. Who knows, you might just save this boy." he finished, and he stood beside the table. returned to the podium. "M'kay kids, now I want you all to form a single file line and grab as much as you more you grab the better, m'kay." he then stepped down to allow us to get up if we wanted. No one really went up, well except of course, for me. I went up and grabbed about five posters and sat back down. We all just sat there. How can nobody care about Stan? Honestly, what's so wrong? returned to the podium.

"M'kay kids, we're gonna need more support than this. One person just isn't enough, m'kay." he remained at the podium, waiting for someone else to come up. No one did so. "Now I want you all to grab at least one poster, m'kay. Be aware that your friend Stan, could be suffering, or even be dead, m'kay." then stood up from his seat, "Alright children, I want you all to come up and grab at least one." the children then started filing single file near the table. Apparantly, Cartman stood at the very end of the line, I wonder why. I placed the thought in the back of my head as I grabbed at least five more posters. Luckily, there were possibly hundreds that cover the table, so that everyone can take like...ten each. I looked behind everyone, who only grabbed one. In fact, by the time Cartman was there, the table was only half covered. But Cartman ended up taking the rest himself. "What? I just have a big heart, that's all." he stated aloud. There were still so many, that he could barely carry them. tried to help him, but he simply padded him off. Now I know Cartman, what is he really gonna do with all those posters? I needed to find. So I followed him around and observed him during class. He wasn't doing anything with the posters. He also wasn't looking at me or heard me or noticed me, so I know he wasn't trying to conceal it from me. I did however see him whisper something to Butters. Butters then whispered it to Clyde, who then whispered it to Timmy. Well, before I knew it, everyone in the class knew about what has been whispered except me. Why didn't anyone whisper it to me? I went over to Bebe, who has heard the whisper, and asked her what it was. She then gave me the most shocking reply I could ever hear coming out of her mouth, "Sorry Wendy, I was told not to tell you." which me even more concerned. I now knew something wasn't right. I continued to spy on Cartman, being more attentive than before. But still, nothing else suspicious.

I followed him out to reccess, where he was carrying the stack of posters, and a bunch of kids started crowding him which completely eclipsed him from my view. "Aw yes, follow me and we'll start." he said to the crowd. They then proceeded to the middle of the reccess area, I tagged along. Once we were there, they stopped. I circled the crowd, trying to find a place where I could see the action. Unfortunately, most of the crowd are in rows of two with people trying to see over each other. Luckily though, I found a row with just Jimmy in it, and his short height from the crutches allowed me to see over him. I saw Cartman in the middle, who was just placing down the hundred of posters. He also had something protruding from his red jacket. He then spoke up with a megaphone, "Gather around folks!" he stated. The kids who were playing elsewhere, were drawn by this and joined the crowd. This left me sandwiched in the middle with the new kids forming third, fourth, and even fifth rows. Once the new attendees were settled, he spoke up again, "Alright, now we all know the truth about Stan that's going around. So I don't need to explain to anyone." my mind was lost. What the hell was he talking about? What truth? He then continued, "Well we don't want to help this faggot, now don't we?" he asked. Everyone in the crowd except me screamed "NO!", again I was confused. Was this what they was being whispered earlier. Is this why Bebe wouldn't tell me? I continued to watch as he spoke up. "Well neither do I. No person proved a fag should even exist. We tried to conceal it earlier by not grabbing posters, well I'll solve that." he finished. Cartman then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He slid it open and pulled out a wooden stick. Next, he pulled out a large, red, plastic container from under his jacket. I immediately recognized it to be a gas container. Looking at the wooden stick, I realized that was a match. I then got the whole picture. I tried to speak up to stop it, but by then, everyone was chanting Cartman's name which drowned my voice. He opened the container and dumped gasoline over the entire stack of posters. He then took the match and struck it against the match box, it instantly caught a flame. Cartman, now with the burning match, spoke into the megaphone. "It'd be best if you all step back. This is gonna be huge!" Jimmy started stepping back, which forced me and the others to. Now, the circle has enlargened, leaving a much more open space in the middle. Cartman has backed up to the front row and Bebe was standing right behind him. He then threw the match and the pile was instantly set ablaze. There was huge applause and outroars coming from all around. I gazed upon the burning pile in terror. I even fought through the crowd to get out. Once I was outside, I looked around, hoping a teacher or somebody noticed. But there were no teachers outside, which was very unusual. I ran to the door to get inside, but there was some sort of metal pipe lodged in the handles, making it impossible to through from inside or out. From the doorway, I looked left, right, up, and down at the windows to see if they were watching from them. But they were all smeared and covered with some brown paint. I inhaled to find out it wasn't paint, but very Cartman like, dried up shit. Unfortunately, the streets and sidewalks in town are usually barren during school hours, so no one really saw the smoke. I went back to the door to try to remove the metal pipe shutting the door, but it was stuck on there like it was actually apart of the door.

About ten minutes later, the fire started the die down, and people started dispersing. I heard Cartman talking on the megaphone. "Alright you guys, we gotta clear this up! Somebody remove the pipe, someone clean the windows, somebody dispose of the ashes. Come on! Those teachers won't be high forever!" There were about 10 people going to clean up the ashes, another 10 people who removed the pipe, another 10 people cleaning the windows, and the rest just went back to playing. This gave me a perfect opportunity to confront him. I marched up to him as he was observing the group picking up the ashes. He looked up to me and immediately started talking. "Aw Wendy, I'd reckon you enjoyed our little show now didn't you?" I had to push every nerve in my body so I wouldn't punch him in the face. I suceeded in that, but I didn't want to remove the anger in my speech and voice. "I kicked your ass once and I'll do it again!" I yelled. Cartman backed up like he was pretending that he had no idea what I was talking about. "Now Wendy, we don't need to resort to violence here. I'm sure we can talk this out." he blankly offered. I responded in the same tone, "You know something! You might as well know something about Stan!" Cartman however, continued in the same, shitty tone he was using. "Oh Wendy, I have no idea what you're talking about. If you're saying I know something about the show, than all I'm saying is that I had nothing to do with this." he started to lie, "Quite frankly, I was abducted by some badass gang who wanted to do the exact same thing. They couldn't do it, so they asked me. Honest." I came closer to him. "Shut your fucking mouth! I want answers and I want them now!" I demanded. "But I gave you my answers, that's how it happened." he responded. "Well then what about the pipe and the shit covered windows?" Cartman hesitated for a second, trying to think of an excuse. "Huh, how did those get there?" at that point, I had about enough. There was clearly no way I would get it out of him and walked away.

I don't know how they were able to do it, but the groups were able to completely clear up the scene just as the teachers were walking outside signaling that reccess was over. As we were walking in, I approached . " , Cartman burned all the posters." I told him. Cartman suddenly appeared next to me. "Um, , clearly Wendy is just paranoid. I wouldn't do such a thing." looked at us for a minute. He finally responded, "Please. I have a lot going on. Wendy, stop being a stupid bitch and go inside. Just...please." this shocked me, but I did as he said. I avoided Cartman for the rest of the day. But I still found 's response was shocking. Cartman must've did something to them.

I attempted to calm down and focus on my school work. But everytime I looked at Cartman, even at his desk while he was in the bathroom or something, it caused my anger to well up. I had to use every nerve in my body again today to keep myself from exploding in class. To calm my nerves I looked up at the clock, it read 12:26. I then looked at the board to try to see what was trying to be taught. It was history. had a TV in front of the class showing footage of John F. Kennedy's assassination. He then shut it off and spoke up, "And that proves that Lee Harvey Oswald did not kill John F. Kennedy. Now are there any questions?" no one spoke up. Had I paid attention, I still wouldn't have raised my hand. "Alright class, now I want you to take out your textbooks and read about the Civil War. And be sure to cross out any bias statements dissing slavery or the South." we all then took out our books. I'd much rather be beating the shit out of Cartman, but I'm willing to do anything to take my mind off of him. I didn't have a black marker, so I had to borrow one from Bebe. I started doing this for a few minutes, when I then looked up at the clock again, 12:33. I then heard the phone ring. picked it up and listened for about a minute. I stared at him the whole time. He then put the phone down and he spoke up. "Um, Wendy, Butters, Cartman, and Kenny, you're all wanted in the principal's office. Why did I have to be sent down with Cartman? But the four of us got up and proceeded to the principal's office.

When we walked in, we saw Principal Victoria at her desk. By her side was and our parents. "Please sit down." Victoria asked. We each took a seat and our parents got behind us. "What's going on?" Butters asked nervously. then spoke up. "You're not in trouble, m'kay. We need to tell you something important." he stated. We then listened to what had to say. "Um, earlier this morning, Stan was found." he started. "By the police?" Cartman wondered. "Well not exactly. He was actually found by your fellow friend, Kyle, m'kay." Cartman then looked surprised. I was relieved. He then continued. "They were both found alongside a road about a mile outside of town, m'kay." Cartman then spoke up again, "Well is that where Kyle found him?" I got suspicious by all of his questions. "Well you see, Kyle found Stan in a cabin in the woods and, well, he was badly injured, m'kay." we all started getting shocked, especially me. He continued. "They were both found by the police and paramedics together, m'kay. Kyle fractured his ankle and was treated at the hospital. Stan also went to the hospital, but in more critical condition, m'kay." I got even more nervous. I then spoke up. "Well can we visit him?" I asked. froze for a moment, and continued. "Um, well, I don't know how to put this, m'kay. But I'm afraid Stan's injuries were beyond repair. He passed away minutes ago." he finished. "What? Stan can't be dead!" I shouted. I started getting tears in my eyes again. I looked at the others. I couldn't see Kenny's expression with his parka on, Butters looked flabbergasted, and Cartman was pretending to get emotional. "Well there will be a wake for him tomorrow and his funeral will be on the fourth, m'kay. Kyle is at home right now if you want to go visit him." stated. That's what I wanted to do. That's what I needed to do. But I couldn't do it at the moment. I just sat there for a little bit, breaking down. I didn't my parents or anyone else, just him. I had lost the best boyfriend ever and he hadn't even had a chance. After a while, I found my way out of the school, and towards Kyle's house, the last place Stan was seen.

**To Be Continued**

**Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**I do not own any of this. That distinction goes to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**

**Wendy's POV**

Without acknowledging anyone, I walked out of the principal's office solemnly. I wasn't sure of the time at that moment, but I must've been in there for more than 10 minutes at least. But I didn't really give a shit, because my boyfriend is dead. I can tell he really loved and cared for me, but he got nervous at times. Everytime he had puked on me, yes it was gross. But it wasn't his fault, he was a very fragile person, but he really wanted to have courage in front of me. He deserved so much more in life; my affection and support for him was strong, but I'm sad to say, didn't sum up. Or at the very least, I had thought I even had a trace of hope. I remembered the talk me and Kyle had earlier this morning at Stark's Pond. I felt like I could've saved him, I could've sped things up, but I didn't. And all because I thought he would've been _found_ dead. Christ, what kind of girlfriend was I?

I made my way to Kyle's house, 1002 Bonanza Street. I gently knocked on the door and answered it. I wiped away my tears so she wouldn't suspect anything. She greeted me warmly, I could tell that she didn't know yet of the terrible news. The first thing I got out of my mouth was, "Is Kyle home?". She then turned to face me and replied, "Oh yes. He's been home for about twenty minutes. So rude of him. All he did was go straight upstairs." I thanked her and walked upstairs. I didn't want to disappoint her by breaking the news too soon. So I wasn't sprinting. But I also didn't want to have Kyle be left alone, so I didn't trudge either. Instead, I walked up the stairs at a fairly moderate pace, or normally. As I walked up, I started hearing a distant moaning, Kyle. The sound made me want to quicken my pace to run like Usain Bolt, but I refrained as not to raise concern. When I reached the top of the stairs, I made my way to Kyle's door. Luckily I know him well enough to navigate his house.

I opened the door slowly and quietly, or at least tried to be quiet. The silence was broken by the door's usual creaking sound. The room was pitch black, even though it was midday, so I had to open the door rather wide so I could see the room. The door was open at almost full extent by the time I could see even remotely. The drapes on the windows were closed all the way, explaining the darkness. On the floor were a pair of crutches. I then recalled telling me that Kyle _did_ fracture his ankle. And there he was, the poor thing, on the bed with his face buried in the pillow sobbing uncontrollably. I slowly approached him.

**Kyle's POV**

I felt a hand reach my shoulder as I laid there. I was pretty sure it was my mother, finally confronting me for ignoring her earlier and demanded an explanation. I kept my head in the pillow as if nothing happened. Nothing could really touch me, especially my parents. I felt the hand move away from my shoulder, and assumed she was going away. But instead, I heard her sit down on the bed. Oh Jesus, now I'm gonna have to hear her bullshit she calls parenting. But she didn't open her mouth, well at least not right away. I felt her at the very end of the bed, and I felt her move closer to me. I was then able to feel her with my feet, and realized it wasn't my mother. Even though it wasn't her, I continued sobbing. The person by my side remained silent for another minute or so, I don't know because I didn't give a shit about the time. The person finally spoke up.

"I miss him too." the person said sadly. I recognized the voice to be Wendy. She must've found out. Well now that she knew, I might as well just try to listen to her. I looked up and saw her saddened face through my blurred vision. I was barely able to speak. "How did...you...find out?" I asked. "I got sent to 's office. Told me all about it." she replied. She then pulled me into a hug and allowed me to sob into her shoulder. However, the pain just doesn't go away. In fact, she shouldn't be here. Stan didn't really love her, but loved me. But it's good to have _somebody_ there. I would choose her over my parents or Ike any day. We continued to hug each other until I was called down by my mother for dinner. She grabbed her things and left.

I somehow found the strength to come downstairs. It sure beats the hell out of me. When I got downstairs, I sat down at the table to eat. Seems as if my parents _still_ haven't learned about Stan. That just amazes me, of how unaware they are. We didn't usually watch the news, my father reads the paper though. "So...you get any phone calls today?" was all I was able to make out. "No, Kyle. Not today." my mother responded. God damn! How are they gonna find out? I considered telling them myself, however I quickly decided against this. Who knows? Maybe Mr. and will call us soon, or maybe we'll watch the news. I guess it doesn't really matter, because they will definitely know by tomorrow morning in the paper. But to me, that's too late. If someone dies, all of the close ones should know on the exact date.

The next morning, I woke up at around 10. Fuck. School started two hours ago and I'm still in bed. I was extremely lethargic from the events of the previous day. Unfortunately, my parents didn't get any phone calls last night or watched the evening news. But I assumed they figured it out. I mean, why else would I be in bed at 10 on a school day. I lifted my head slowly and noticed that parts of the bed were stained. I then recalled it. I had to cry myself to sleep last night. I decided to not get out. The school, maybe even the police might be looking for me. But I don't give a shit. The sadness I had from yesterday began to flood my mind again. It's as if I'm literally reliving the day. From talking to Wendy at Stark's Pond to finding Stan in the cabin, to him dying before my very eyes.

I looked at my alarm clock only once since I woke up. I checked it around 11:30. A few minutes later, I saw Wendy come in. She looked fairly the same as yesterday and sat down at the end of my bed. "Shouldn't you be in school?" I wondered. "My parents let me skip school because of what happened." I had my head turned to my wall, away from Wendy. "Did my parents find out?" I asked. "I'm pretty sure, they were crying when I walked in. Didn't you tell them?" she asked. "Well, no." I responded.

"But why?" she asked urgently. I wasn't sure what made her so curious or urgent. And to be honest I was rather surprised. There have been times where she went digging for forbidden treasure, like when she found out that the list that ranked us from cutest to ugliest was fixed. But this is personal, something buried deep within the one place nobody but me could reach, my mind. I then tried to brush her off of this. "Are you going to the wake tonight?" I asked. She gave me a nod, followed by her repeating her question. My mind went rushing. Why the fuck does she have to know? Why does it matter to her? She talked to them maybe twice and she wants to know what's on their fucking mind. Bullshit. Complete, utter bullshit. I once again tried to brush her off. "So, are you also going to the funeral tomorrow?" I asked. She nodded me again, "Yes, but you're _still _not answering the question." she stated. At that point, I was getting frustrated. She's really clinging on here. I tried to bring her off one more time. "You know, you should probably speak tomorrow. You were his girlfriend, so you'd best start thinking about-" she then cut me off. "But I do know what I'm gonna say, and I'd reckon you know what you're gonna say as well. But I still understand why you didn't tell your parents right away about Stan's death." she said. I lost my paitence.

"Why do you care?" I yelled, "It's none of your fucking business, now that's for sure!" Wendy seemed rather shocked when I said this. "I'm just concerned. I think there might be a problem if you won't tell your parents." she responded. "Problem? Problem my ass! The only reason you know I exist is because of Stan! You should go running to him for all your bitching!" I retaliated. Wendy grew even more shocked. I continued. "It amazes me that you choose to come to me in these times! What do really want? To seem like a normal person grieving? Like hell!" Wendy somehow found strength to speak. "No. I do care about you and I well understand how much Stan meant to your life." she defended. "Do you Wendy? Do you? You only ever speak to me when there's a problem in your relationship." I stated. "That isn't true." she said. "Really? Well name one thing you talked to me about other than love or death." she remained silent. "That's what I thought. Now, what do you really want to know? Everything that makes me a messed up person?" I asked. Wendy remained silent. "Now to me, you're only here because of what happened. And probably in week, month tops, your gonna carry on with your normal life. Get a new boyfriend, maybe get married, most likely gonna get divorce over an issue of Playboy, and repeat. You used him when he was alive, and that makes you only one thing...a big, snarly bitch." I finished. Well, I guess I said too much. Because before I knew it, I heard her rush out of my room crying. Fuck. I need her, like, very badly. I continued sobbing.

The wake was held at the South Park Funeral Home which is on the other end of town around 6. I found my way out of bed, somehow, and got on a suit and of course, my green ushanka. We arrived at around 5:45, and the god damn casket still wasn't in the room. I saw the Marshes sitting near the big window sitting in three chairs. saw us come in and greeted us from the chair he was sitting in. "Hey. Noticed that you got here just now. Do you know how long we've been here? All day, bitches! We got here last night during another family's wake, slept on the god damn floor!" Okay, l don't understand why he needed to say that, although it is rather obnoxious to stay at a funeral home overnight. But will be , or Randy. had exactly the same face she had when I saw her two days ago, however her skin is a _little_ paler if I recall correctly. Shelley had a straight face, just like mine. It's as if she's smiling due to her achieving her "ultimate goal", but at the same time there was that part that made it seemed like she cared. But she might've just been fatigued, they did stay here for a whole day. Or otherwise, due to the fact that the god damn casket still wasn't in the fucking room.

When we got there, it was just me, my parents, Ike, and the Marshes. Within minutes, however, the room started filling up. Stan's uncle, Jimbo and his friend, Ned were the next to arrive. "We did it, Ned! We beat the traffic!" he exclaimed. I thought that meant that people would be fighting for parking spaces in the next few minutes. But no, it was no more than the mere evening commute here in South Park. Some of which came from Denver. As a matter of fact, only three more cars pulled in; the McComricks, the Stotches, and the Testaburgers. As soon as they came in, a man came out with a basket full of programs for the wake. I was able to slip one before the rest of the people started crowding it. I read it.

_SOUTH PARK FUNERAL HOME_

_June 3, 2012 6-9 PM_

_Stanley Randall Marsh_

_October 19, 2001 ~ June 2, 2012_

Above the door there was a clock. I looked at it and it read 6:02. What the hell? Where's the fucking casket? Two men then rushed into the room. "It's empty!" one of them yelled. That drew all of our attention to them. "The casket is empty." the other man repeated.

**To Be Continued**

**Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I do not own any of this. That distinction goes to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**

**Kyle's POV**

All of us looked at each other, surprised. How the hell can the casket be empty? But I'm sure that's what everyone else is asking themselves. Finally, spoke up. "Empty? How the hell can that be?" he demanded. "It sure beats the hell out of us." one of them agreed. "I'd doubt it," Wendy spoke up. "The only way that can be so is if you guys were trying to lose the body." she finished. "Trust me, we did not try to lose the body. In fact, you can come outside right now and see for yourselves." although he was obviously referring to Wendy. But yet, all of us came following the men outside like a herd of sheep. We were all brought out to the back parking lot where we saw a long, black limousine. The type that one would only see in Hollywood. We then crowded around the back as the men approached it. They told us to move aside while they opened the back doors. Once open, the only thing in there was a beautiful, light brown casket. You ask me what wood it's made of? Fuck off, because I don't know shit about wood. The men grasped onto the golden handles towards the bottom and lifted it from the car floor. They then moved it out of the limo and laid it down on the pavement. We crowded around it, looking in awe on it. "Alright, I'm gonna prove this to you right now." one of the men said and proceeded to open the casket's hatch. For one man, he was able to open it quickly. The inside of the casket was just as divine as it is on the outside. With silk white walls enveloping the interior. However, like the men said, Stan was not in it, nobody was.

We were now looking at the empty casket. Who the hell would take Stan's body? "I'm calling the police! No sick bastard is gonna take my dead nephew!" Uncle Jimbo exclaimed. He then took out his phone and did so. Wendy was standing opposite of me. However I then noticed the girl with black hair sneaking off. Where was she going? Wasn't she gonna help with the search? I started following her to see where she was going. I crutched at a somewhat normal pace while keeping the rhythm of my crutches as silent as possible. They weren't perfectly silent, however she was unable to notice me. She then, however, made a cut into the woods which made my footsteps more audible and my mind more suspicious. Despite the louder "steps", she still didn't notice me. However, I started to get a little behind as I was being _too _careful with each step. This in turn quickened my walk, while still being careful. I then felt one of my crutches get stuck. I looked upon it and noticed that it was entangled in some heavy shrubbery. I have never seen such heavy bushes before, but I was losing Wendy quickly. I struggled to get the crutch free, but it remained grounded. Just as I was about to lose sight of her, I freed it. I really had to catch up if I were to keep it. I moved my crutches at a almost running pace and didn't give a flying fuck about the sounds I was emitting. And for some god damn reason, she didn't notice. She maintained to go in a straight direction, so I wasn't really focusing too much in terms of what was in front of me. Bump into her? Nah, that's ridiculous. But I guess I should've have been looking the whole time, because when I looked up, I was abbout inches from Wendy. I tried to stop my swinging arms and crutches, but I was just too late and crashed right into her. She hit the ground with me falling on her legs.

As she found her composure, she looked back and found me. She looked surprised at this. She got up, leaving me on the ground to grab my crutches. The raven-haired girl helped me to my feet and crutches. As soon as I was in a standing position, the first thing to exit her mouth was, "Were you following me?" which was more of an exclamation than a question. I nodded my head slowly. She looked at me straight in the eye. "You'd best be getting back to the funeral home. You're parents must be worried sick." she suggested. She turned to walk away when I stopped her. "And what about you?" I demanded. This was enough to make her stop in her tracks. "Don't worry, I told them I was just heading off." she lied. "Well then, where the hell are you going?" I asked. She kept her head turned from me. "That's not important." she replied. She then continued to walk off. I followed behind her. However she must've assumed I would follow her with her bullshit lie and looked back to face me. "Please, stop following me!" she demanded. "Look, I care about you...a lot." I lied. "And well, I have this funny feeling that you're gonna do something...horrible. I'm here for you, just tell me where you're going. I might be able to help." I finished. I must admit, that shit that came out of my mouth was unwanted, but it must be the only way to get the truth. She sighed and looked at me to respond. "Alright," she started. "I'm going to Cartman's." this made me more suspicious. She must be plotting to have him kill her or something. "Cartman? Why are you killing yourself?" I asked almost in a panic. She looked stunned by this. "Oh no,no,no,no!" she reassured. "It's nothing like that." she finished. Really? She's not gonna kill herself? Then why the fuck is she going to Cartman's? "Well, why are you going there?" I asked. The raven hair girl looked at me for a minute, then sighed again. "Don't you get it? He stole the body! He killed him and now he has it!" she yelled. What? "Cartman may have the body, but he certainly did not kill him." I reassured.

She looked at me, puzzled. Her expression was also in a state of disbelief and shock. "Yes he did, told me that Stan was founded 'in a cabin in the woods' and 'badly injured'. This can mean that he was beaten at the hands of another human being. And that somebody is clearly Cartman." she testified. "No he didn't! I was the one who founded him in the cabin! Three men in trench coats brought me there and they told me to stay in the car. They went in there where they most obviously beat him. I escaped! They went looking for me to try to keep me from telling the truth!" I finished. She remained puzzled. "Well do you know _why_ some people would do this?" she questioned. I thought about it for a minute. I then remembered something. It hit me like a gun shot to the head. "Well, I guess they were hired. I remembered the driver in the car talking to someone on the phone saying 'It's still there' and 'I'll make sure it is disposed of'. And they wouldn't let me listen in." I then dropped my voice as I realized something. I now knew what "it" was. Well, to be honest, I had an idea it was Stan but it didn't exactly hit me that the men were "hitmen". I spoke up again in new realization. "I'd best come with you. We're in this together." I stated. She nodded her head and continued. I followed behind her.

The route proved to be time saving. We arrived at the fatass's house in half the time it normally took through town. The black hair girl arrived at his door with me right behind. She knocked loudly, enough to be heard throughout the neighborhood. Within seconds, opened it. "Why hello." she greeted in her usual, seductive tone. We just ignored her and walked straight in. We didn't hear some shitty show on TV or the obnoxious munching of Cheesy Poofs or whatever the fuck his mom makes him, so he wasn't downstairs. We marched up the stairs as we were sure that if he did have the body, that time might be running out.

At the top of the stairs we walked straight to his door. Once there we busted it open. There we found the fatass sitting by his window looking into a telescope. He then turned around to greet us.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Jew and the girl. I've been finding this little procession most interesting. Especially when the casket opened up empty." he retorted as he started laughing. I approached the telescope and looked into it. I saw the back parking lot of the retirement home. The casket was lying there, open and empty. Police cars covered the parking lot with several police officers interviewing my parents. I moved away and faced the fatass. "Alright! Where is he?" I demanded. Cartman gave me a blank stare as if he apparantly didn't know what I was talking about. "Where's what, Jew?" he asked in a smartass tone. "Where's Stan's body, you fat piece of shit?" I clarified. He once again gave me a blank stare. "How the hell should I know? They're the ones who lost him!" he replied pointing at the telescope. I was about to speak up when Wendy stepped in. "We know about the gang! The one who wear black trench coats!" she announced. "They drive a black 2010 Chrysler 300. They stopped by a quaint cabin in the woods where they beat the shit out of him!" I added. Cartman looked at me with more puzzlement which I know is actually concern and shock. "So drop the fucking cherade and give us the body!" Wendy yelled explicitly.

Cartman stood there for about thirty seconds, probably trying to formulate some fake story. Afterwords, he spoke up. "Guys," he started. "I have no fucking idea where any of that bullshit came from. I'm no therapist, but I'd say you two are in denial because of Stan's death. You think it's okay to inflict blame onto a completely innocent person, me. So get off my fucking back! And admit it! He's fucking dead!" he finished. Wendy started approaching the fatass, when I stopped her. "We'll be back, fatass!" I decreed and followed Wendy out of the room. As we were walking out Cartman spoke over us. "I'll be waiting, Jew." he said.

Once outside the room, Wendy spoke up. "What the hell was that about? He obviously did it!" I looked at her in the eye. "I agree with you. But before we make any hasty decisions, we should go looking. Maybe Cartman hid him somewhere, but he's not gonna tell us. Is he?" I said sincerely. Wendy bowed her head down. "Alright. But let's not waste too much time." she complied. We exited the house.

**Cartman's POV**

_...I think about you everyday_

_I'd reckon you'd do the same._

_There shall be harmony_

_right in your name._

The fag had read the closing lines of his poem. I suddenly covered my mouth, trying to keep myself from entering a laughing rant. I noticed that everyone else was silent. How was _that_ not funny? Think about it! Stan Marsh is a god damn fag! And they won't give him what's good for him, or at the very least laugh.

The bell had rung, signaling the end of class. I rushed to catch up with Butters, who was filing out. I walked by his side, until we were out of the room, making sure we were out of earshot of the fag. Once out in the hallway, I spoke up. "Hey Butters, what'ya think of that poem Stan read?" I asked him.

"Well it seemed kinda good. But it was confusing." he admitted. I then placed my hand on his shoulder. "Butters, that poem was a lemon. Sweet and tender on the outside, but sour and citrus on the inside." I told the blonde. Butters looked at me with a confused look. "Now what are you saying?" he asked confused. I took my hand off his shoulder, and turned it so he faced me. "Butters, Stan Marsh I'm afraid, is the faggiest fag of all fags." I announced. Butters looked a little shocked by this. "Well, which boy is he interested in? I hope I'm not the one he's into. My parents will ground me." the blonde said. "That doesn't matter, Butters. He could be interested in me, you, or even the whole class! We have to stop him! Fags don't deserve to live, Butters! And with you by my side, I'm sure we can stop it from spreading. Are you in?"

"Yes, Eric." he replied. "I'll start telling people."

It was lunch. I was sitting down at a table alone with Butters. "So, did you tell anyone?" I asked him. He looked up, proud of himself. "Yep. I told the entire second _and _third grade. The second grade promised they'll tell the first graders and promised to tell them to tell the kindergarden. The third grade promised to tell the fifth grade." he reported. "Good." I replied. "I already told the class and the other fourth grade. We're definitely on our way, Butters."

Kyle was sitting with some friends of his and the fag was sitting alone in the corner. However, that changed when I saw him get up and approach Kyle. I couldn't hear what he was saying due to all the sound and commotion in the cafeteria. The two then got up and exited the cafeteria. "Hold on, Butters. There's something I need to check out." I told him. I got up and followed them out side. They stood about seven feet from the doorwa, and I hid behind there trying to listen in.

"What's going on? You haven't talked to me all day!" Kyle said almost like he was having a heart attack.

"You know that poem I read this morning?" he asked him.

"Yeah, it just seemed like a bunch of metaphorical and crap."

"Well, to be honest, I wrote it about you." Stan told him. No way! It's Kyle! I knew it was only a matter of time!

"What?"

"Kyle, I know this seems wrong but...I love you!" No fucking way! For about a minute or so, there was nothing. Maybe it was one-sided. Then the Jew spoke up.

"Stan...I love you too!" There it was! The deal is sealed! There's not just one fag in here, but two! This day just keeps getting better and better.

I then heard footsteps. They were coming back in. Fuck. I rushed as fast as I could back to Butters. Not to escape from them, but to report the news. But then, I stopped in my tracks. I suddenly came up with a better idea. I've always hated the Jew, but he loves Stan. So perhaps, rather than killing them both at the same time, we can kill Stan, and have Kyle wallow in pain. And _then_ we kill him. Genius. Just genius.

**Kyle's POV**

We rounded the corner from Cartman's house. I turned to Wendy. "Alright, if I were Stan, where would I be?" I asked to myself, but also talking to Wendy. Wendy turned to me. "Your house, probably. Was there anything suspicious in your house before you left?" she asked. "How am I suppose to know? All I did was stay in my room and get dressed. I didn't pay attention to details." I assured. "Well then that's the first place we go to!" the raven hair girl announced.

My house, 1002 Bonanza Street, was nearby from Cartman's house. We quickly jaywalked across the barren street to the dark, empty house. My mom always keeps a spare key under the welcome mat. I picked it up and unlocked the door. Once inside, we turned on the lights. We separated and spent about thirty minutes turning the house upside down from the attic to the basement. Wendy covered upstairs and the attic, while I search the main floor and the basement. But we found nothing. We then met again in the foyer with the house a wreck. My parents won't be home for a few hours, so I didn't care. "Where do we search next?" she asked. I thought about this for a minute and then spoke up. "I'd guess...Stan's house." I said almost sounding like an idiot. We then exited the house and made our way to 2001 Bonanza Street, which was a longer walk but still short.

Luckily, Stan's house also has a spare key. We opened the door and turned on the lights. This time, we alternated with me searching upstairs and the attic and her searching down here and the basement. I immediately approached the top of the stairs to search the parents' bedroom, nothing. I search the bathroom, nothing. However, I heard a soft sound while searching in there. It was soft sobbing. I immediately got out and went into my friend's room. In there, I not only saw the body, but the body...was alive.

**Stan's POV**

I woke up in a small, compressed space. I suddenly remembered the harsh brutality of the beating and rape. I wanted to die, whether by asphixiation or dehydration. I'd stay in that space as long as it takes, nothing mattered. I didn't know how the mean men proceeded me in here anyhow. Probably right now, under six feet of dirt and all sorts of shit. In fact, to prove a point, I pressed my hand against the top of the space. However, it wasn't solid. My hand grew more and more free, until at last. I was able to sit up. I was in a car, similar to the dreaded, 2010 Chrysler 300. But I could tell it wasn't, it was relatively longer. It still had the black windows, but that car could never fit a huge thing like this. I then realized that it was a coffin. Why the hell would the men bury me so formally? I then looked down, and saw myself in a suit and tie. Why would they waste a valuable suit on me. I brought my hand to my head, and I could feel my poofball hat. At least they were able to keep that, to my relief.

I moved out of that coffin and noticed two doors leading to the car's exit. I pulled the handle and they opened. I ran out, to get as far away from that crime scene as possible. I didn't want to be reminded of it. I already want to die. I ran straight for the woods, which was next to the parking lot. Once I was in the clear, I removed the suit and tie. Within a minute or so, I was only in my underwwear. It was as cold as hell in the afternoon, but I didn't care.

Within a few minutes, I was back at my house. It was empty as can be. I opened the door, and locked it. I could easily tell that it was just me in here. Even in the serendity of my home, I was still freezing from all the running. Usually, I didn't mind that, but this time I was _really_ cold. Cold to the point of getting a high fever. I ran upstairs to my room, and pulled on the first thing I grabbed. Pajamas and a blanket just wouldn't cut it. So I ended putting on my usual clothing even though it was like, 5:30. I then huddled under my blanket. I tried falling asleep, but the beating and rape quickly caught up to me. I buried my face in my pillow and starting crying. I don't deserve to live, beats the hell out of me why I couldn't have just stayed in the coffin.

**To Be Continued**

**Please Review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**I do not own any of this. That distinction goes to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**

**Kyle's POV**

How is that even possible? He was dead! I saw the IV flatline. I was aware of what told me. But how could he have risen from the dead?

To be honest, I don't care. I don't care that the impossible, even the most shocking of events has occured. I yelled Wendy's name as loud as I could. I could hear her fast paced, loud footsteps ascend the stairs and into the room. She would've ran straight to him if I hadn't stopped her. "No," I told her as I placed my arm in front of her. The fact is, what I was doing and saying is hypocritical. I wanted to run as fast as I could to give him a hug. But, by looking at his condition, I decided he needed a little space. Wendy is usually very observant, being able to pick up on things rather quickly and fully. And this occasion was no exception. I was pretty sure that she was thinking what I was thinking. I guess I was also trying to keep her back because she's not Stan's love. "We'll visit tomorrow. Now we better get back to the funeral home." I told the black haired girl. She was not pleased by this. "Tomorrow? But-" she intervened. But I cut her off by covering her mouth with my hand. "Relax, he'll still be here tomorrow. But right now, our parents must be worried sick." I reassured. I then closed the door and led her out of Stan's house.

**Stan's POV**

Fine, go away. Go away, back to the meaningless wake. Why should I care? All you're gonna do is fill my head with conspicuous lies and yet, seem benevolent. You might even tell me, by soft whisper, that you love me; that you care for me like an infant or some other fraternity. Well I will not allow it. The bald man snapped me out of my dream; my delusion. To think that I dared refuse a reality check. If only I was less rebellious, he could've killed me and set things right. But instead decided to reinforce and build upon the point he has reached out for. He did the right thing, but perhaps he could've done better. Could've he have left me to finish his work? Or am I too ignorant and worthless to make such a decision. I remained in my bed, yet to arrive at a conclusion.

**Wendy's POV**

As we were walking back to the funeral home, I grew suspicious of Kyle. Why did he pull me out so fast? Was he actually giving him space? Was he overwhelmed by the miracle? Or thought he was in a delusion?

We walked together, side by side. The sun was now below the mountains; its glimmer made everything before us sillouettes, though it is somewhat ironic. I turned to my left and I could barely see Kyle's face, but I somehow sensed his blank expression. "Hey, Kyle." I grabbed his attention. "Why did you get me out of Stan's room?" I asked affirmitively. For a moment, Kyle looked at me almost like a zombie. I waited paitently, although he was probably hesisitant to let me in on something. Eventually, he spoke up. "You see, Wendy. I must say, I'm shocked how he was dead and then not dead. That was pretty crazy. However, to be honest, he might not remember the abuse he underwent. There's no way it could've been an out of body experience, he was dead for a whole _day_. Chances could be that his brain has been reset _entirely_ like a whole, new being. And that's what concerns me."

I continued walking, thinking about what he just said. It's a fairly believeable sentiment, but it's not enough. It was fairly quiet as the light, mountain breeze slammed into our faces. We continued walking through the barren town, when I broke the silence. "But Kyle, that doesn't answer my question! In fact, it defies common sense! Shouldn't we get him to know us?" I demanded. Kyle looked at me and spoke up with an answer in a shorter amount of time than before. "Don't you think he'll be...overwhelmed?" he asked. That only made a _little_ more sense. We walked the rest of the way, without a word spoken.

**Cartman's POV**

I had my telescope pointed directly at Stan's house as the Jew and Wendy were searching. Although I didn't have anything that could make me _hear_ better, I was able to hear the Jew's obnoxious scream to her. I tilted and turned the scope to find where it came from. And there I found him, on the second floor standing in the doorway of the fag's room. The hallway light was beaming, so I was only able to make out his sillouette. But I knew it was him, with that disgusting ushanka on his head, forming the sillouette's shape. Wendy rushed up and stood beside him for a brief moment, then tried to speed into the room quickly. The Jew stopped her. I zoomed in the scope as far as it'll go to see their faces. Wendy looked shocked and confused. Kyle also looked confused, but he also looked sincere.

I then saw Kyle's mouth open as he faced Wendy, talking to her. God, I wish I knew what they were saying. Anyway, she looked completely pissed off, but somehow kept it in. Kyle exchanged a few more words and then lead her out of the room and the house.

I tilted the telescope some more, trying to see what all the fuss was about. But with my window angle, I could only see so much. None of which seemed suspicious. As it turns out, I would need to get closer to the scene. So, I quickly got up and waited until the two were out of sight. Once the coast was clear, I went across the street. I tried to open the door, but it was locked. So, as Kyle did, I reached under the welcome mat and took out the spare key.

Now inside, the first place my feet found were the stairs, as they led me in the exact path of Kyle. I walked at a fast, urgent, and almost running pace, assuming the two were on their way back. Luckily, they didn't. At the top of the stairs, I immediately made my way to Stan's room, where I saw them standing at the doorway. The door was closed, just as they left it. I flung it opened and found the damn thing on the bed. It just laid there, all nice and beaten. So much so that you can even hear sobbing in your mind. And yet, it feels so real. Well this clearly assures me that I'm ready to move onto the next phase of my plan. It sure will be great, that I can tell you.

I started imagining all the joy and fun I'll have in the weeks that come. I accompanied these thoughts with some song I made up. In the end, I don't actually go around to remembering the songs I've done, well, I forget the songs existed. But for the moment, this is the song I sing in my mind. As I stand there, lost in my imagination, I hear a soft, sobbing sound. It sounds _exactly_ like the one I've just been imagining. I tried to drown it out, but it did not cease. I tried thinking of impossible yet over the top things, and yet I still hear it. I resorted to slapping myself in the face. At first, it was light. However, it eventually got to the point where I was making a red handprint on my face. It did not cease. I then come to the realization, I was _hearing_ this.

I looked around the room, trying to find a source. Whether it would be some funky ringtone or Butters hiding in the closet for some reason. I walked around the room, scavenging through drawers and shelves. It could've probably been some noise maker going beserk. Please don't contradict me, I think of every possible solution. Besides, I didn't find one anyhow.

Probably the only other place to look was the closet. I approached it slowly, probably to ambush whoever's in there. Once there, I slammed the door open; it looked exactly the same as Stan had left it, and not a living soul.

Could it be coming from downstairs? Can't be, considering it was barren when I walked in. But I had to check for any and every solution possible. I got up and proceeded towards the bottom of the stairs. However, as I was about halfway down the steps, the sound started to get softer. It certainly couldn't have been. I rushed back up and sure enough, the volume went up again. To check, I checked all the other rooms on the second floor. All I ready did was check under the beds and glanced at the closet. But it was enough to say, confidently, that nothing was there. I went back into "it's" room.

It sounds completely insane, but I just have to do it. Once in there, I approached the bed where he laid. I stuck my finger up and poked the body. No response. Next, I tried to pushed and nudged the body a little bit. No response. I stepped back and watched the body for about a minute. The sound did not cease. I looked at the body closer, and noticed some shaking. I grew suspicious. I went back over to the body, I just know something isn't right. I pulled out two fingers, put them together, and rested them on the neck. What I felt next was the biggest shock I've ever seen. It was slow, yes, but I felt a beating on the neck. I stumbled back, possibly terrified. I quickly absorbed the horrible truth. For a minute, I was scared. There was clearly a zombie out to get me. But then it hit me. Moving back, I rushed out the door. Not from fear, but from urgency.

I quickly arrived back at my room and took out my cell phone. I dialed Richie's number and placed the phone to my ear. I stood there while the phone was ringing, looking out the window to the fag's home. "Hello." it was Richie. I could not be more pissed off right now, and he's giving me a "hello"? "What the hell? I thought you killed it!" I yelled into the phone. My mom wasn't home, so she wasn't able to hear our conversation. "We did! It was completely motionless! I swear!" he assured. "I paid you $100, Richie! 100 god damn dollars!" I shouted. There was silence for about five seconds. "Sir, I assure you he's dead! We hit him 'till there was brain matter on our bats!" he defended. I'd tell you, this guy is definitely breaking my balls. I guess I really do have everything myself. I hung up the phone.

Now that I think about it, I'm glad that they didn't kill Stan. All it means is more suffering. It also gives me the chance to try even more cruel things. I sat down at my desk and grabbed a piece of paper. I took out a pen and began writing.

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_I'm here to inform you that I am alive and healthy. I was just in a coma for a little bit, well, more of a out of body experience. But it seemed just right for a storm of death to have ensued. However, it has taught me to praise life more and to get certain things off my chest. There is one thing I should tell you. I am a homosexual, in love with my my super best friend, Kyle. Actually I think the term should be super best boyfriend. Anyway, I hope you accept my choice and there's nothing you can do to change it._

_-Stan_

I ended up rewriting this note a few times, just to make it look like his handwriting. Once finished, I quickly sketched a picture of the Jew. I had to unfortunately make it realistic instead of what I wanted for it. Finally, to put the icing on the cake, I wrote Kyle's name in some careful, nice calligraphy. I folded it in half and wrote "Marsh" on it, to indicate it was for them. I got up quickly and ran across the street to Stan's house. I unlocked the door with the spare key and went straight to the living room where I placed it on the coffee table. I ran back to the house and sat down by the window. The Marshes' car pulled in about a minute after I got back. All three of them walked into the house.

**To Be Continued**

**Please review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I do not own any of this. That distinction goes to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**

**Thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming.**

**Kyle's POV**

We came back to a big surprise; the funeral home was surrounded by a long barrier of yellow police tape. The place was only populated by police officers and detectives. There was also a series of vans from different news stations with cameramen and reporters outside. The two of us slipped under the police tape and looked around for any nearby officers. However, as it turns out, we were immediately confronted by . "Hey, you can't be out here! Go home!" he commanded. Instead, we stayed back and told him everything.

looked at us like we were aliens. Then he broke out laughing. "I'm sorry, you two just go home!" he was barely able to say this under all the laughing. "But we need you to investigate! Not only is he alive but he's actually home right now! You just gotta check!" I pleaded. He continued laughing for a little bit, then toned down. He spiffed himself up to make himself seem professional. "We're not here to listen to some ten-year-olds. There's never been a case of someone coming back to life over twenty four hours after their death. I understand you lost your best friend and it's okay to deny it, but the truth is what it is." he finished. I cannot believe this police force. They would come if somehow pulled the fire alarm when there wasn't a fire, but not for a fake body theft. I turned around to leave while Wendy followed behind me.

She followed me all the way home, however her house is a little farther down from mine so it would make sense. None of us exchanged a word. Even when I got to my house, I just turned to walk to the door quietly. She continued walking towards her's. When I opened the door, I was immediately confronted by my mother. "Where have you been?! Your father was just about to call the police!" I don't know how to tell my mother what's going on. Would she think I'm in denial? Would she think I'm crazy? Or worse? I did my very best to make it sound believable. "I went off with Wendy." as I had expected, she was not convinced. "Wendy? You mean Stan's Wendy?" I nodded my head. "Well where did you go?" Oh shit! What do I tell her?! I brought up the very first place that came to mind. "Stark's Pond..." Well, she looked like she was starting to believe me. "I know this is a difficult time and I want you to know that you can talk to us." Yeah, like I want to do that. "Your friends can't completely have us eclipsed. There comes a time when you need to turn to family." Alright I get it! Can't she just shut up already?! It's been a long night. "Can I go to bed now?" I asked calmly. "Of course, bubbe." she replied. I then ascended the stairs and into my room. I got undressed from my suit and into my pajamas. I then slipped into bed. Normally, I would wear my ushanka to bed. However, tonight was an unusually warm and humid. So I popped it off and allowed my afro to pop out.

As I tossed and turned in bed, I wondered. Why didn't I go back to Stan's house? I could've just separated from Wendy and ran; she wouldn't have to think anything was wrong. It was pretty late, so the others would've been in bed. I could've grabbed a ladder and ascend to that second-story room. I could've slept on the floor or even at the foot of the bed. I had all the opportunity and the motivation. But why didn't I do them? Eventually, I drifted off.

_I was in the cabin, the same one where I first found him. It had cold, concrete walls with a single window right above me. I was sitting in a corner, where right in front of me I saw a run-down cot. There were no sheets on it and one can easily see the rips, tears and stains that embed it. Stan was lying on the cot, curled up in a ball and shaking, terrified. He had back to the door and his face to the wall where the cot resided. I tried to get up to comfort him, but I was stuck. I looked around myself to see what was holding me back. To my surprise, there was nothing; no chains, no glue, no nothing. I grew a little worried myself._

_Suddenly, the three men walked through the door and inside. I suddenly grew terrified as well, but not as mush as Stan. "Please...don't hurt me!" he cried, He suddenly was shaking even more violently. I thrusted and pushed to break free, but made no progress. "Oh, don't worry. We're not here to hurt you." the bald man reassured. I grew a bit of relief. However, that changed quickly when the bald man took out a handgun. I tried to yell, but my voice was somehow unable to come out. I panicked. The bald man placed the gun to Stan's head and in no time at all, he embedded a single bullet into his brain. Stan immediately went limp. I tried even harder to scream, but the imaginary barrier was able to seal it. The bald man then turned counter-clockwise, facing me. He held up the gun. I then heard a loud sound, and then everything went black._

I woke up on the verge of screaming, but I resisted myself. I turned to alarm clock, it was 6:58; early enough to get up. I pressed the "snooze" button so that it wouldn't go off at seven, like it usually does. I placed my ushanka on my head and got out of bed. I placed on my normal attire and headed downstairs. I grabbed out a bowl of cereal and wolfed it down in minutes flat. Finally, I grabbed my backpack and headed off for school. It wasn't even seven thirty.

Usually after heading out the door, I would head straight for the bus stop. But on this day, I went straight to Wendy's house. I took the right out of walkway for the brief one was usually awake this early, except for me and Stan when we had sleepovers.

It took me less than five minutes to arrive at her house, as we live on the same street. I walked up her walkway and knocked the door. She wasn't usually up before seven on a school day, but I wanted her up early on a day like this. My prediction was correct when she answered the door, already dressed for school.

"Oh hey, Kyle. I've been expecting you. Come on in." she greeted. I didn't turn down her offer and walked inside. She directed me to the living room and told me to sit down. I did so. She started staring at me, as if she wanted me to start talking. "You know, we've got to be sure to rebound him quickly. We should have him return to school tomorrow." I broke the ice. "No!" she immediately yelled back.

What?! Why doesn't she want him to go back to school tomorrow? "Wendy, he's been missing a lot of school and I think our friends will be gl-" I was suddenly. "No! They're happy right now!" she yelled again. At this point, I was confused. "Wendy, what the hell are you talking about?!" I demanded. Wendy sat there for a moment, probably trying to recompose herself. She sighed and then spoke up. "On the day you went looking for Stan, there was an assembly at school. told us about the situation and told us to grab a missing poster. Cartman ended up grabbing all of them and there were hundreds of them. Then at reccess, he burned them. There were crowds of people applauding and chanting!" Jesus Christ! I sure did miss _a lot_ of school. "But why would they cheer him on? They all like Stan!" "I don't know why, all that matters is that they hate him now. We can't let him go to school. He will be in terrible danger. As long as he stays at home, the others will think he's dead."

I understood the sense in the plan, but it wasn't perfect. "But Stan can't stay at home forever! Someone's gonna find out eventually!" "Well if that happens, maybe we can fake a headline. 'Boy See's Death And Lives To Talk About It'" I was not convinced. "They know about the funeral and are probably learning about the empty casket right now. Probably gonna think that Home Depot ran out of bricks." Wendy seemed to be stuck. "Or maybe, we could give him some-" I cut her off and placed my hand on her shoulder. "Wendy, maybe the others have gotten over their grudge. Maybe they're ready to reaccept him." I suggested. The noirette seemed a little nervous. "I don't know. I'm pretty sure they'll be pissed if they find out Stan's death was a hoax!" she complained. For a moment, I wasn't sure what to do. But then, it hit me. "I got an idea! What about if we talk about it to the other kids at school!" I proposed.

Her face was relieved of anxiety. "Alright, we'll do it! But remember, we cannot tell them anything suspicious!" "Okay." The two of us then walked out and proceeded onward.

I looked up at the sky, it was extremely cloudy out. Normally, this would be a warning of an impending blizzard, but it was June. Amazingly, not even _we_ get snow in June. So that could only mean one thing, rain. Turns out we _both_ noticed this, because before I knew it, we were both running for our lives. The rain was still yet to come, however we both wanted to make sure we got there before the downpour.

I wasn't a very good runner and I usually don't like running, especially sprinting. And it's not easy running on crutches. However, it appears that we ran at just the right speed at just the right time. Because, as we were going through the front doors, the downpour began. It was also a good thing I didn't take the bus, because the bus arrived right behind us. The school's walkway was relatively short, but I don't like rain under any circumstances. We went straight to our lockers.

"So who are you gonna talk to?" I asked her as she was gathering her things. "I'm not so sure. I'm probably gonna talk to multiple people." she responded. "Well I'm not talking to Cartman, that's for sure! Well, I guess I'll talk to everyone." I bounced back. "Alright, what about if you talk to all the men and I'll talk to all the women. Is that okay?" she asked. I nodded my head. Once we coordinated with each other, we headed to class.

When we entered the classroom, we were the only ones in there. Despite our rather large headstart, we were only alone for a minute. The others all filed in like a pack of mice. My first choice would've been Butters, but he was at the wake last night, so I decided not to. Instead, I went to the next closet person, Clyde Donovan.

I approached Clyde, who was talking with his friends, Token Black and Craig Tucker. I tapped his shoulder lightly. "Excuse me." he turned his head, facing me. "Excuse me," I repeated. "What?" he asked almost aggravated. "Have you heard anything from Stan Marsh?" I asked. Clyde gave me a very annoyed look. "Stan Marsh?" he asked for clarification. I nodded my head. "Are you honestly asking me this?" he asked again. I once again nodded. "We all know the entire story! We all know what happened! And even more, we know you were there! And you're asking me this God damn bullshit?!" I backed away to avoid any further confrontation.

I'd figure that Token and Craig would probably tell me the same thing, so I moved onto Tweek, who is surprisingly not talking with Craig. Luckily, that'll allow him to give me his undivided attention. "Excuse me." like I predicted, Tweek immediately faced me. He was twitching like he normally does, but not as much as usual. "Have you heard anything from Stan Marsh?" I asked. "He's dead! Don't you know?" he responded. I walked away. I would ask Timmy, but he's not going to give me much information. And Jimmy isn't in today. I took my seat and waited for class to start.

I met up with Wendy at lunch. We normally bring our own lunches to school, so we just sat down.

"Any luck?" I asked her. She looked at me in disappointment. "No. All of them just told me he was dead. What about you?" "Me neither. It's hard getting any information without sounding suspicious!" Wendy sat there for a moment, formulating another plan. I don't get her and all her ideas. "Face it, Wendy! We'll never get it out of them!" I gave her a piece of my mind. However, she continued to formulate. After a minute, she spoke up. "Well your right about that. So, all we have to do is ask Stan himself!" she proposed. Alright, she clearly doesn't understand the situation. "It's not like you can just ask him! Did you even see him last night?!" I protested. "Exactly. That's why we need to support him; to comfort him." she explained. I remained silent the rest of lunch. There was no guarantee of anything working.

The rest of the day went by surprisingly quickly. I just took in the lessons was teaching and allowed the time to fly by. In fact when the final bell rang, I was still absorbing the lessons. But now, that wasn't important. I was reminded quickly of what I had to do. Wendy met me at the doorway and we walked out together.

The rain from earlier had long let up, however there were huge puddles on the roads and sidewalks. We both decided to take the bus home.

The two of us got on the bus and sat next to each other in one of the middle rows.

The bus ride was for the most part quiet, opposite of what it should have been. We got off near her house about fifteen minutes after leaving the school. Once out, we made the trip to Stan's house.

**To Be Continued**


	13. Chapter 13

**I do not own any of this. Trey and Matt do.**

**Thank you for reviewing! Keep it up!**

**Kyle's POV**

Immediately after leaving the bus, we took a left onto Bonanza Street. From the entry we entered, Stan's house would be all the way at the end. This would mean, however, that we would have to walk past _my_ house. A risk I'm not eager or willing to take. I stopped Wendy before she could move any further. "What's wrong?" she asked with concern. "We must go around; enter through the backyard." I commanded. I continued straight, the direction we were going in. She, of course, followed behind me. We then crossed the unofficial, invisible, but yet clear crosswalk to reach the side of the house on the other half of the road. We hugged the outside of the fence of that house and then turned the corner to the back fence. The properties were so compact and compressed that the back fence was on long fence, extending the length of the street. There was a thin path for us to walk along with tall standing trees on our left and the fence on our right.

Unlike the trees in the woods, these trees were less abundant. I don't think it even qualifies as a wood. Besides, the trees that were there seemed neat. It's as if they were planted and cared for by humans. This made it easier to move about in my crutches. But the trip to Stan's was short and quick.

Once we arrived I stopped, along with Wendy. I had her open the backgate, as my crutches forbidded me. The gate was unlocked, so we walked straight in. The backyard is the same as I remember it; a tree to our right with the clubhouse which is miraceously still standing. To our left was a small, wooden structure. I recognized it as Sparky's doghouse, barely used. However, as we walked by, I saw the fellow mutt, sleeping in there.

Usually, when Stan was bummed out, fellow Sparky would cheer him up; licking him and cuddling up in his arms. When I was out of town or preoccupied, this affection might as well tie things up entirely. But Sparky also knows me- and of course Kenny and Butters. He would know when I'm unable to comfort Stan; less than one percent of the time. For the ninety-nine percent of the time I _am _there, he would do about ten to fifteen percent of the comfort and would take it from there. There's also his parents of course. However, I'd say they would succeed ten or twenty percent of the time. The bottom line is, if Stan could only live with one other person, it'd be me.

Wendy reached the sliding door and opened it for me. The two of us walked in and started heading towards the front. I was doing pretty well until I heard a thumping noise. The two of us froze in place. My heart raced, could Stan actually be killing himself? We heard the noise again less than a second after the first. And then we heard it again, and again, and again. We then heard a creaking, swinging sound; then followed by a slam. The thumping noise continued at the same tempo as before. Then it hit me, someone had just come out of Stan's room. Damn.

It was too late to head for the door now, and going out the window would impossible with my crutches. The thumps then grew louder- the person was heading downstairs. We both panicked quietly, unsure of what to do. However, we then saw a small, circular table with a sheet covering it. I tapped her shoulder and directed her to the table. We quickly slid under. I listened to the person's footsteps. The person reached the bottom of the stairs and then I heard the door swing open. The person did it without any sort of suspicion. After I was sure the person was out the door, I got up and approached the window to see who the person was. Wendy just looked at me, nervous. I assumed it to be Stan, however I can't be one hundred percent confident. So, I merely crawled to the living room window and peered out to the driveway. To my surprise, it was walking to his car. I'd guess he learned the truth and was trying to comfort him. However, it's not common for his consoling to cure Stan.

got into his car and drove off. Once I was sure he was gone, I retrieved Wendy, who was still under the table. "What the hell were you thinking?!" was the first thing that came out of her mouth. I explained to her about . She listened to me intently. Afterwards, the two of us went upstairs. All the way up, it was silent. The only sound audible to man was our feet hitting the steps. We weren't rushing up there, but we were still unable to hear anything else. I wondered why there wasn't any noise. His father was with him a minute ago, so he couldn't have killed himself, or at least that's what it appears to be. Maybe his father could've drifted him off to sleep like a newborn infant. I don't know.

When we reached the top of the stairs, we didn't say a word; particulary because I didn't want to startle him. We also took the liberty of silencing our footsteps.

We then reached his door, which was shut as I predicted. I placed my hand on the wood and knocked several times. No respsonse. I knocked again to make sure he could hear me. Still, no response. I placed my hand on the knob and tried to turn it, but it was glued in its spot. It was locked. Damn it. I patted my pockets, seeing if there was anything I could use as a key- a paper clip, a bobby pin, anything that could fiddle the lock. But I had nothing. I took out my backpack and sorted through all of its contents, but still, nothing. I was then prepared to ask Wendy for anything when I remembered something. My credit card. I still have the credit card I had from when the town lived simplistic, non-spending lives and I ended up paying everyone's debt. It's practically worn out from all the swiping, however it was still sturdy enough for gentle swipes and other simple tasks. Certainly, unlocking a locked door with a credit card was a pretty simple task. So, acting quickly, I reached for my wallet and pulled out the piece of plastic. I quickly straightened it and jammed it in the slit between the door and the frame and sure enough, the door unlocked and opened.

The two of us could see the room just as clearly as last night, in fact, it was _supposed_ to be better since it was day time. However a recently applied, dark curtain made it black as night. We were, however, able to see through the slits of light slipping through it. Stan was exactly in the same place he was last night, however this time he was thought to be easier to reach. That, and the fact that he was facing us. There was no sound or movement coming from him; he would hear you loud and clear. But I wouldn't let this deceive me. At least when he was crying and begging the good Lord for mercy, he seemed to be alive and human. But I couldn't see that in him. His blue eyes seemed bloodshot, dead, lifeless, but most of all, pained. His skin was whiter than the snow-covered mountaintops. I'd assume that he came home yesterday, now at this moment, approaching the twenty-four hour mark. And anyone who can have their soul robbed from them in that amount of time, even if they came back from the dead, would've astounded me. Especially Stan, who just a few days ago, was confessing his love to me, full of life. doesn't usually cure Stan of his emotional slumps, however he is at least able to assure him that there's hope and that everyone that loves and cares about him have faith. To think that he was actually with him just mere minutes ago.

He was most clearly staring at me, but didn't do it like I was there. He did it like he was trying to imagine that the door was still shut, that none of us even walked up the stairs. But another part of his face seemed like he knew we were there. That part looked angry. Not angry at me, not even Wendy, but something.

Well, now was the time. Now that I think about it, I'm glad Wendy joined me; she's really good at consoling. I have three main goals I hope to achieve from this talk. The first one is pretty obvious, that is to cure Stan. The second goal is probably the easiest, that is to make the talk seem spontaneous, non-rehearshed, and from the heart. And the third goal is the hardest, but the most important, and that is to dump Wendy without dumping her. However, this goal is more of a team effort, so that takes off a little weight off my shoulder. But of course, we can't just go up there and tell her we're gay, she'll feel like she's been used. This is half right. She is much more observant and athletic than me. She has the fierce determination of a mother lion. Without her, Stan would most likely be dead. On the other hand, however, I do admit that I had a good time with her during the whole search. We weren't really friends beforehand, in fact, we barely even talked to each other. But it's as if fate has brought us together. We became united as one during our little adventure. A couple of times, I actually imagined her as Stan while we were talking. It almost makes me not want to tell her. But, of course, Stan is my true love and I'm his. Maybe we can secretly date, have Stan pretend he still loves Wendy. We don't have to tell her, she would never have to find out. However, this would set ourselves into one of two scenarios. In one scenario, Stan's and Wendy's continued time together would be dangerous. She could use her charm or seduction to win his man. I would gradually drift away from their togetherness. And before I knew it, they would have their own house together and I would just be a forgotten childhood memory. In another scenario, he would lean towards me, while occasionally spoon feeding Wendy with lies. But then, one day, somehow, whether some classmate slips it out or whether she finds a photo, we would be exposed. For this, she would not bitch like she would with all of her life problems. I would know that she would first rip my head off with Stan watching in horror. Then, she would abduct him and take him away somewhere no one would ever bother them. And every night, she would be showing him more affection than what's healthy. But of course, I could just tell her right here. I would be done with and settled with her. She would just be at home, secluded to her bed for a few days. But she'll then get back up and just find someone else. And from then on, she'll look at us, the gay couple and think to herself _"Why the hell would you leave me for a guy?!"_. I just don't know. I sure am stuck in a tailspin.

The two of us walked towards the bed at a comfortable, slow pace. Once we were within talking range, I broke the ice. "Hey, Stan...We came here to cheer you up."

The raven haired boy was unfazed. I stood there for a moment, thinking he would speak up. I honestly thought he wouldn't, but I gave him time to show I had faith. But, as it turns out, he did speak up after a minute. "What is there for you to cheer me up about?" he asked in a broken, almost dead voice. I was glad that he did speak up, however his voice didn't make it, well, him. Wendy then decided to pitch in. "About those guys that beat you. I know it's scary that you had an out-of-body experience, and those men are evil." she reassured in a soothing tone. She then remained there silent, mimicking what I was doing. Stan seemed to be on a routine; waiting about a minute after one of us had said something to speak up. His dead voice sunk me down low, but it assured me that he was very much alive.

"Oh, so somebody does care." he replied a minute later. Oh my God! What did those guys do to my sweet, beautiful Stan?! "Stan...what exactly did they do to you?" I asked in concern, despite already knowing the answer. But, nobody can react this badly to a severe beating. I would've thought that he'd be grateful that he lived. There has to be more. "Stuff." was all he could make out. Now there definitely has to be more to it. "What did they do to you?" I repeated. "I already told you, they just set me straight." he reassured.

At this point, I had to get it out there. "We know they beat you. But I believe they did something else. What was it?" I demanded. "They didn't do anything else!" he now yelled. "Stan, I can see it in your eyes! You get beaten by your sister, Shelley all the time and you never came out looking like this! There has to be more!" I suggested. "There isn't anything more! I don't know why you and her are caring right now! I shouldn't be loved! I shouldn't be living! So stop wasting your fucking time on something you shouldn't be doing!" he retorted. I must admit, I was rather drawn back by this. But I can't leave. Not now, not ever. I had to speak my mind, but I couldn't explode on him. "Stan, you're my super best friend. You should be loved and cared for. I care, and I love you God damn it! I'm really worried about you and I know those guys did more stuff along with the beating. And you can tell me anything."

Stan suddenly appeared lifted. He raised himself up to a sitting position on his bed and faced me. "What did those guys do to you?" I repeated calmly. Within ten seconds or so, Stan was able to find his voice. "I, I was-" he was about to tell me when he was suddenly interrupted by a loud ring. This ring was accompanied by a strong grumbling from my pants. I reached for my pocket to take out my cellphone and then looked at the caller ID, it was Mom. I knew that I had an important mission right now, but Mom would kill me if I didn't pick up. I flipped it open and placed the thing to my ear.

"Hi, Mom." I greeted.

"Kyle, why aren't you home?!" she yelled urgently. I had a lie or two planned to tell her, however I would be unable to back them up.

"I'm with Stan right now." I told her truthfully. I then heard her speaking to Dad. I couldn't make out _what_ they were saying, as she had her hand over the speaker, but I could hear their voices.

"Kyle, please come home right now." she commanded.

"But Mom, Stan needs-" I was pleading my case when she interrupted me.

"Come home right now!" she yelled. I couldn't start a fight with her, not with them around.

"Alright, I'll be home in a few." I agreed. I then hung up the phone. I could, of course, not go and lead her here, but I don't want to take a chance. I started towards the door when Stan spoke up. "Wait, where are you going?" he asked with concern. "My mom needs me home." I responded with honesty. "But, I need you!" he concerned. He opened his eyes wide to show it. "I know and I'd much rather stay. But my mom doesn't believe you're alive. She'll kill me if I don't come home. But I'll come here first thing tomorrow!" I reassured. I turned to the door but was interrupted again. "You mean...everyone thinks I'm dead?" he asked. I nodded my head and walked out the door. Stan was completely silent. Wendy followed out of the room behind me. When we got out the door, I went straight home as I was told. Wendy didn't say anything.

**Stan's POV**

_"Don't go!" _is what went through my mind. Every God damn person on the planet knows I'm dead but you two and my family! Apparantly, my parents- or at least Dad- found out that I was alive last night. Some of you might think their reaction would've been a good one; happy and joyous like newlyweds at the beginning of a horror movie, relieved like a guy in a zombie movie that just outran a swarm of the undead, or terrified like a pussy being confronted by Scream or Jason. However, my parents' reaction was weird, but unfortunate; in fact, it makes me wish that I stayed dead.

_Last Night_

_After Kyle and Wendy had left me alone, I remained wallowing in my misery for about twenty more minutes. I stayed alone there, until I saw two beaming lights emitting from my window. They were close to each other- not too close though. I found myself and got up to see what was there. To my luck, it was just Dad's old car. I continued to look out as him, Mom, and Shelley exited through its doors. _

_Dad was wearing a black suit. I never seen him wearing this one though. I never saw it in his closet or the attic. Dad would never abandon his usual blue suit, so this one is probably rented. _

_Mom was wearing a black dress. This one I recognize. She usually wore her green dress for certain occasions, like when Dad was on "Wheel of Fortune". However, she also wore the black dress for Aunt Flo's funeral. Apparantly, after my evil goldfish killed her, Mom dug her in the backyard. But for some reason, she dug up the body after the fish returned to the parallel universe. She stuffed it in the backyard and dumped it deep in the woods. The whole time, she was wearing latex gloves and washed the body. Therefore, there was absolutely no evidence of murder. This deception made the cops conclude that Aunt Flo died of natural causes. The funeral was held a few days later, and we still visit her grave about once a month._

_Shelley was also wearing a black dress, however she was also wearing a black burette on her head. It looks a lot like the one Wendy wears._

_I already knew what was going on. I didn't immediately know that it was a wake, but it was punching me in the face the whole time. I woke up inside the casket, the suit I was wearing wasn't my green one, and I happened to be at the South Park Funeral Home. The thing was I was in too much panic at that moment. I was too distracted to notice these small, yet obvious details._

_The three of them had dissapointed expressions on their faces. I'd say their frustration stems from either their "dead" son being missing, having to dress up nice and fancy for nothing, or the overall emptiness of a wake without the person of honor. I expect that the third possibility be it. But they carry on into the house. I just wondered how they would react when they find out the truth._

_For about a minute, I didn't hear much except for a few footsteps and the creaking sound the couch makes when someone plops down in it. But then, I heard Dad. "What the hell is this?" he asked urgently but calmly. Of course, I had no idea what he was talking about. What could be what? However it also got me thinking. _"Did Kyle and Wendy do anything?"_ I thought. I just remained lying in bed, making as little noise as possible._

_After another minute, I heard Dad again, but in a completely different tone. "WHAT?!" he yelled. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" Uh-oh. Something is definitely wrong. _

_"SHARON! DID YOU SEE THIS?!" he demanded. She softly told him 'no'. I could barely hear her say this, though. There was silence for about a minute, about the same time Dad had. Afterwards._

_"WHAT?! THIS IS UTTER BULLSHIT! SHELLEY!" she yelled. I could hear Shelley coming towards Mom._

_"SHELLEY! DID YOU SEE THIS?!" she asked angrily. There was silence once again, about the same time as Mom and Dad. Afterwards._

_"OH! THAT TURD IS GONNA GET IT WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON HIM!" she announced. I then had it all figured out. I was in trouble. _Very_, very, serious trouble._

_"Search the house! I don't care if you have to turn the damn place upside down, we want him found! To the person that finds him, beat him as badly as you would beat any of his kind!" he commanded. And at that moment, the house was flooded with pounding footsteps. I knew at that moment, I had to hide. Getting up, I immediately locked the door and shut the curtains. Thinking quickly, I made a break for a closet and shut the door quietly, so I wouldn't draw any attention. Although I had perfect protection, there was still one big question to ask. If you have one house, three people, and three floors, along with a front and a back yard, what are the chances of finding something?_

_It seemed as if I had gotten up there just as the person made it to the top of the stairs. They of course went to the most obvious place first, my room. I heard the door turn, but stopped quickly as it's locked. "What the hell?!" the familiar voice echoed. I knew it to be Dad. He must've taken a hint to the locked door. "Guys! He's in here!" he yelled. And before I knew it, the other two ran up the stairs and joined him. He then started to bang on the wood like it was a punching bag. But, as expected, the door wouldn't budge. He then resorted to slamming into the door. This, although stronger, still wouldn't break down the door. Then, there was no more physical contact with his body and the door. Instead, there was softness to silence for about ten seconds, and then the most unimaginable thing happens, the door unlocks and opens. I'd guess he did it with a bobby pin or a credit card, like Kyle used earlier._

_The three started raiding my room on an investigation. I was terrified, shaking violently as they tore the space to shreds. But it wasn't long before the closet door came flying open to my father. I wish I could just disappear from this place, just hide. However, he immediately recognized me and ripped me from where I was sitting. He was holding me by the collar of my jacket and it was literally suffocating. But he made sure that I was something for all to see and held me high. "I want you two to go to bed now! I'll deal with him!" he decreed. The other two looked confused, but they didn't interfere. They both exited and made their way to their rooms. Once out, he locked my door, leaving just us in there. _

_My father then slammed me down to my bed. "So...you like it being a queer?!" he taunted. I then knew what this was all about. But how? How did he find out? "ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!" before I could respond in any way, he drove his fist into stomach. It hurt like a bitch as it sent pain throughout my body. I had no idea why my own father would be reacting this way for my urge and decision. I tried to raise my head to recompose myself, when he threw another blow into my right temple. It was enough to bring my body down to its side, but surprisingly, not enough to kill me or give me brain damage. He used my position as an opportunity to fling my body right off the bed. I now had my face facing the ceiling, and he started kicking me repeatedly in the ribs area. The first kick, I heard a crack. It was definitely a broken rib. He then kicked again and another broken rib. I now found it hard to breath with two broken ribs. Luckily, I wasn't having an asthma attack. I cringed to bring support to the ribs, when I got a shoe to the lip. I licked my lips a little bit to find the salty, crude taste of blood. I tried again to support myself, when Dad grabbed my Broncos lamp and slammed it as hard as he could into me. Several shards penetrated my arms and therefore, loosened my grip. He then took this chance to give me another clean kick in the stomach. Now, every part of my body hurt, even the parts that weren't the prime target. "CLEAN UP THIS MESS YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT! AND IF YOU TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS, YOU'RE DEAD!" he yelled. He then gave me a hard kick to the left temple and went to the door. He opened it, locked it, and slammed it. I was alone again, but I didn't have anything in me. I am unable to get myself onto my feet, but I'm able to do other basic things on the floor I lay upon. I spent about twenty minutes afterwards, experiencing excruciating pain. I waited until they were all in bed. Once I was sure that they were in their sleep, I broke down quietly, making sure no one can hear my cries._

**To Be Continued**

**Please Review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Trey and Matt own this, not me.**

**Thanks for the reviews!**

**Stan's POV**

_I woke up the next morning on the floor, where I have been left last night; it all came back to me in an instant. Looking at the window, it was around dawn. Usually, my parents wouldn't wake up until later, so this gave me some time to clean up. I had to respect Dad's wishes, for I didn't want to think about what would happen if I didn't. But, everything still hurts. The bleeding has long stopped, but the blood loss made me a little light-headed. That, and the blood formed splotches, which are now stained on the damn it! I was as sure as fuck if I couldn't find a way to remove the stains. And then there was everything else; the broken lamp and my injuries. I pressed my hands against the floor to get up, but they stung terribly from the shards lodged within them. Luckily, they have already run their course, so I was able to shake them off without any problems of bleeding. Once they were removed, I slowly got to my feet. I was now very dizzy and found it hard to keep my balance. _

_The first place my feet found was the waste basket, sitting beside my desk. My vision was blurred, so it made it hard to see across the room. It took me about a minute to find the bucket. Once there, I picked it up and walked back to where I was before. By then, my legs were shaking and I allowed them to give in, so that I could pick up the shards. It would normally take someone less than five minutes to pick up a mess like this one, but for me, it took about ten. My once superior hand-eye coordination was now hindered by the beating. But my survival instincts is what kept me from giving up on the spot. But, as I became more awake, my vision was starting to improve as I picked up the blood-stained shards. Also, my hand-eye coordination was beginning to come back, however, it's not as good as it once was. _

_Once all the pieces were picked up, I brought the waste basket downstairs and placed it in the regular trash. To ensure that no one would suspect anything, I then took out the trash and placed it in our large, plastic one outside. Afterwards, I went upstairs to the bathroom. My family always kept a first aid kit on the top shelf of the bathroom closet. I opened the closet, took out the stereotypical white box with red writing on it, and placed it on the counter. I lifted the flaps quietly, as they could be loud enough to wake everyone. This seemed unlikely, but I didn't want to take any chances._

_I removed my jacket, along with my white shirt to reveal the injuries. There were several bruises here and there, along with the broken ribs. My arms were lined with rough, uneven cuts which would become scars. I went to the box and took out a white bandage. Once out, I quickly wrapped it around my upper chest. I could tell by my pain and difficulty of breathing that both of the broken ribs were in the lower rib cage, near the diaphragm, but I just wanted to take an extra precaution. I then took out several cotton balls and quickly ran cold water over them. I applied them to my lower lip and chin, which were blood-stained and dabbed them like a moist paper towel. I then quickly rinsed my mouth with water to remove any blood from my teeth and gums. I then proceeded to work on my arms, but I stopped for a moment. There was still one more thing to work on my face. I took out another cotton ball and ran in with water. But instead of applying them to my chin, I sent them directly to my right cheek. There was no blood on them, or any cuts, but it was of vital importance that I wiped them. I didn't want anyone to see my tear-stained cheeks. And I quickly ran through the left cheek as well. Once done, I took out two long, white bandages. I took one, and stamped it onto my left arm, and repeated this process on the other. I placed my shirt and jacket back on and took a look of myself in the mirror, to make sure nothing looked out of place or suspicious. I then walked out._

_I found my way downstairs and to the kitchen for breakfast. I found Dad and Shelley at the round table. Dad was sitting down, reading the newspaper, probably the sports section. Shelley was rushing to finish her homework from the previous night. And Mom was at the counter, making waffles. I must've been in there for a while, but with my throbbing head, it only seemed like ten minutes. But the thing that really shocked me was that I didn't hear them get out of bed, or of how none of them decided to use the bathroom. They must've just slipped into their clothes for the day and downstairs. Unfortunately, though, none of them acknowledged me; didn't even bother looking up or to stop what they were doing. It was like I was a ghost. I brought my hand to my face and slapped it as hard as I could. The stinging pain quickly spread across my face. I knew right then that I was alive. I suppose I probably walked in a little quietly to be noticed, so I gave them fair warning. "Good morning, family!" I utterly gracefully. I made sure to say it loud enough to have it echo through my mind, filled with life and spirit , but not loud enough to make it seem obnoxious and desperate. _

_All three of them carried on with what they were doing, completely unfazed and unmoved. There's no way they couldn't hear me. They're not deaf and I said it loud and caring enough to probably even make Cartman give some attention...well, kind of. But, this right here is just heartless. I walked over to Mom, grasped the fabric on the sweater, and tugged it. I was sure to get a response somewhere. But no, she didn't hesitate or gasp. I started repeating this, all the while calling her name, each time growing both louder and desperate. "Mom!...Mom!...MOM!...DAMN IT! HEAR ME!" I yelled. She never approved of me swearing in the house, but I had to do it. Whenever I swear, she picks it up like a satellite. However, for me to yell a swear to her face and her going on untouched, really means something is wrong. _

_Mom was certainly never going to notice me, so I gave up and moved on to Dad, the man that beat the living shit out of me just last night. I peered behind him, and sure enough, he was reading the sports section. Beside one of the columns showed the scores from last night's Rockies game. It was an home game against the Dodgers. I peered at the score where it read: __**Colorado, 3 Los Angeles, 2**__. This was the perfect opportunity for me to break the ice. I stepped aside slightly, so that I was right next to his ear. "The Rockies won last night?! Alright!" I cheered beside him. He ended up ignoring me completely and continued reading. I continued to skim along the sports page, looking for anything to comment on. I then found a schedule of the Rockies' upcoming games next to the standings. According to the schedule, they will be heading down to Arizona for three games. Opportunity struck again. "The Diamondbacks?! We're gonna slaughter them!" I chanted. This time, he put down his newspaper. This was probably a good sign, I was noticed. He looked across the table at Shelley and spoke. "Hey Shelley, is there anything happening at school today?" he asked the brunette. She then put down her pencil and looked up at her father. "Nothing much. Just finals." she replied. I then decided to chime in. "Well, I'm not sure exactly what we're doing since...you know. So I'm gonna ask my classmates to catch up on any missing homework." I responded. But, it was useless. The moment I started talking, Dad returned to his paper and Shelley attended to her work. Looks like Dad's out of the picture as well._

_I then moved to the last of the three, Shelley. I walked over to her side and began nudging her, hoping she would respond. I didn't necessarily care if she responded witg a clean punch to the face, all I wanted was for her to do something. She was my last hope, so at this point, I was willing to do anything. As the other two were, she didn't comply. I then tried nudging even harder and even calling her name, but still nothing. I started feeling tears forming in my eyes. Clearly, I didn't exist to these people. I never realized how much my sexuality meant to my own family. I continued nudging her like she's a brick wall that I couldn't break through. "SHELLEY! SHELLEY!" I kept on repeating. Each time became more difficult as my voice started choking up. I had just about had it. There was only one way I could get her attention at this point. Acting quickly, I got onto one of the empty chairs and leapt onto the top of the table. Once there, I walked to Shelley's side of the table and knelt down. "Hey, Shelley!" I directed at her. I then formed my right hand into a fist, drew it back, and drove it as hard as I could into her horrid face. The punch was enough to send her up, standing out of her seat. She drew her left hand to her nose, which was now dripping with blood and broken. _Now_ she noticed me. "YOU BROKE MY FUCKING NOSE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!" she screamed. In that instant, Dad placed his newspaper down and looked back and Mom turned from the toaster. All three of them were looking at me, as I stood atop the table._

_I suddenly then felt a great force from behind me. I didn't need to turn my head back to realize that it was Dad who was taking me away. Shelley gave me an angry glare as Mom came to attend to her. That was the last I saw of them for the moment as he turned for the stairs, with me in hand. He quickly stormed the stairs and turned to my room. He opened the door and locked it shut. Once shut, he threw me into the wall like a football. My head suddenly started to throb terribly as the throw left a good-sized hole in the wall. I landed on the bed, which didn't soften the landing as much as it should have. I now had my face on the bed, when a blunt object striking my back. I tried to turn my head to see what he was hitting me with, but I got a blow to the face before I could even see the mystery object. The blow nearly knocked me out, but instead installed a gash in my chin, now probably going to be another scar. As he persisted with his slamming, he was yelling at me. "YOU THINK IT'S OKAY TO BEAT YOUR SISTER?!" "GO DIE, YOU SORRY BASTARD!" "YOU DON'T DESERVE TO FUCKING LIVE!" he would yell._

_After what seemed like ten minutes of consistent slamming. I turned around and my face was facing the ceiling. Dad helped me sit up, to which he then punched me in the eye. I have received enough beatings from Shelley to know that it was a black eye. My own father gave me a black eye. Before I could react, he grabbed me whole and flung me to the door. My whole body was hurting again. Finally, he grabbed me, opened my closet door and threw me in there. He slammed the door shut and I heard him rig it shut with something. I then heard him walk out and locking the door shut of course. I was imprisoned, like an animal. No where to go and no one to go to. I then realized this was for real. They weren't frightened nor hungover, they _do_ hate me. I then broke down again. Things will certainly not ever be the same again._

**To Be Continued**


	15. Chapter 15

**I don't own this, Trey and Matt do.**

**Thanks for the reviews! Please, keep them coming!**

**Randy's POV**

_I had finished punishing that worthless bastard and made my way downstairs to tend to my daughter. It's not common nor right for her to take such a blow to the face. I went into the kitchen and found her, with her hand still over her nose and Sharon by her side. I immediately took the other side. "Are you okay, my princess?" I asked slightly concerned. "OF COURSE I'M NOT OKAY! MY FUCKING NOSE IS BROKEN!" she retorted back. I had seen this situation many times before. I have found people lying helplessly on the sidewalks, leg or arm broken or some other bone and helped them. I've seen plenty of movies in which these injuries are present. And of course, I have even cured some of them without the need for an ambulance. I don't need to call 911 for this. I don't even need the first aid kit._

_I approached right in front of her, so she could see me clearly. "Shelley, please remove your hand." I requested softly. As I expected, she didn't immediately comply. "BUT DAD!-" she intervened, but I was able to squeeze in. "Shelley, I just want to help you. Just please remove your hand and let me see your nose." I reassured. She still seemed a little uncertain. "Shelley, it's not going to go away unless I take a look at it." she still didn't listen. Instead, she was able to speak. "But Dad, can't I just go to the nurse?! She'll know what to do!" she tried to slip through. "I've seen this before. Your old man knows a thing or two about this situation. Just please!" I was now starting to sound desperate. But, it just seemed to do the trick. She slowly, but surely, lowered her blood-covered hand from her face. Every piece of flesh from the nose down was dripping with her crimson blood; absolutely audacious and appalling. Her nose was slanted off to the right side of her face. Upon first sight, I didn't know what to do. But, upon closer inspection, it turns out it wasn't actually broken, it was merely dislocated; pretty quick and easy to fix. _

_"Alright, Shelley, just hold still. This will only take a second." I ordered. Before she could even respond, I had my right thumb and ring finger pincing her nose. And in one, clean motion, I jerked my hand as hard as could to my right, sending her nose along with it. There was sharp snapping noise and a painful reaction from Shelley. "OW! THAT FUCKING HURT!" she screamed. I removed my two fingers to give her room. As I expected, her nose was back to its approriate, proper position. I then rose to a standing position and walked over to the counter. I grabbed the roll of paper towels residing near the sink and then came back to her. I ripped off one white sheet and applied to her nose, which was still dripping blood. The dark red liquid quickly soaked the sheet, so I took out another and placed it over her nose. It quickly soaked over again. I grabbed another sheet, but this time got back up. I walked over to the sink and placed the sheet over the faucet. I ran it over for about five seconds and then turned it off. I speedwalked back to her with the dripping sheet and applied it. I pressed it against her as the blood was starting to replace the water. I then quickly dabbed it and threw it out. Her face certainly looked better, like it didn't even happen at all. I beared my arms around her like she was a princess. As I hugged her, I gently reminded her how much I love her and how I'll never let him do that again. She then got up, grabbed her backpack, and walked out the door. I understand why she wouldn't have said goodbye to me._

_Now that she was on her way, it's time I got ready for work. I quickly ran into the living room and grabbed my briefcase. But, just as I left, I ran back into the kitchen and kissed Sharon on the cheek. "See you tonight." I told her. I then ran out of the house quickly. As I started up the car, I peered at the radio clock, it was 7:26, leaving me only four minutes to get to the South Park Center of Seismic Activity, work. Luckily, the traffic is never that bad in South Park, so I was able to get there pretty quickly. _

_When I got there, the other three co-workers were already there, watching the news on the television in the lounge. One of them was Richie Stool. Richie is about fourty years of age, has brown eyes, and is bald. The second was Alfred Jackson. Al, as I call him, is black, unlike the rest of us. But, he is by far larger and more muscular than the rest of us. The last of the three was George Wilson. George is pretty damn skinny if you ask me, but he's muscular like all of us. The four of us are pretty good friends, we hang out a lot like typical grade school boys._

_I walked over and sat down at the cheap couch along with the others. On the news, the main headline is on the wake from last night and the missing casket. I really don't want to be reminded of last night, but I couldn't change the channel, as the other three were listening intently on it. According to the report, the police haven't taken any leads in terms of suspects, as if the body was stolen. It then reminded us all about what happened the day before the wake, the date of his death. Police also didn't take in any suspects on the "murder". They then presented a picture of Stanley on the screen._

_Al, who was sitting next to me, leaned in towards me. "Hey, isn't that _your _son?" he asked. "No." I told him confidently. Al seemed a little surprised by my response. Richie then turned to face me. "Are you sure? That kid looks a lot like him." he pointed out. I shook my head. _

_I was planning on changing the topic, when our boss came in. "Gentlemen, I have some news." he stated. Richie, who had the remote, clicked the television off so that we could hear him. "As you know, I will be giving one of you four a promotion today, along with a huge raise." he reminded us. Last week, Kirk Peggins, the former Head Geologist, retired after working for over fifty years. We held a huge retirement party for him, and wished him good luck in retirement. So, of course, our boss, , has been looking for a new Head Geologist. For the last week, he has been observing us closely at work, seeing who is most qualified. Even though I don't normally see the others in their work, I just know that it's going to be me getting that promotion. Whenever was around, I literally broke my balls to see how much I deserve that job. I was usually observed three to four times, and the usual inspections are around five minutes. But, some of them were as long as twenty or even thirty. But, I endured. I really hope it pays off. I can finally get that foosball table I've been wanting for the basement. Probably invite Gerald or Jimbo over and play some rounds._

_"After observing you for the last week, I have made my decision." he started. Well, here it comes. "The new Head Geologist for the South Park Center of Seismic Activity, along with a spiked raise is..." he held us off on the last word. He waited momentarily, like a presenter at the Oscar's presenting the award for Best Picture. Finally, after what seemed like forever, was out with it. "...Richie!" he finished. What?! How could he have broken his balls more than me. It's not like he wants to have a foosball table, unless he already has one. I could've screamed, but I balled my anger and applauded with the others. Richie then rose and made some sort of acceptance speech. "I just wanna thank you for this great opportunity. I promise I will protect this town with my life. And God bless Kirk, for all his service to this town." he embraced and sat down._

_I was really pissed off now. I needed to blow some steam, and quick. Acting quickly, I raised my hand to my mouth and made a buzzing sound. I then reached for my pocket and took out my phone. I then raised it to my ear and imitated a converstion. "Yeah, hi.." I greeted to myself. I waited a few seconds, then spoke up again. "What?!" I yelled to myself. I then waited a few more seconds. "Why that's terrible!" I then waited yet a few more seconds. "I'm on my way!" I panicked and then placed the phone down. I then made my face look worried. " !" I yelled. The aging man then turned to me and recognized my "concern". "What is it, Randy?!" he asked concerned. I then became worried for real. I had to quickly make up a story to get out. "Uh...it's my wife, Sharon!...She got hit by a...car!...She's at the hospital! I need to be there!" I lied. seemed convinced to my relief. "Well, you're free to leave. I know your wife needs you." he complied. I then thanked him and I was out the door in almost an instant. I quickly got into my car and sped out of the parking lot. I honestly could've ran home in my anger, but the car was faster. Normally it would a five to ten minute drive home. But, I was there in less than two._

_Once home, I practically ran through the doors and into the house. It was mostly empty in there, with Sharon already having left for work and Shelley in school. But, _he_ was certainly still home; in the closet, where I left him. I practically traced my steps from earlier this morning. I always keep a bent paper clip on me to use as a spare key. I approached the door and stuck the paper clip through the little hole in the door. I jiggled it a little bit and I heard a clicking sound. I turned the knob and into his room. It was still the God damn shithole I left it this morning, with the hole in the wall to the little splatters of blood. But, there was something else I noticed on the carpet. There was more little puddles of dried up blood. I kneeled down and touched it. The stain I touched was both dry and crusty. I then went over to another dried up stain nearby. This one, however, still was a little moist. I knew right there that the one I had just touched was from the morning, but the first one I touched was from last night. As I expected, the fag can't even handle simple tasks like cleaning up _his_ mess. _

_I then found myself at the closet door. This one locks from the outside, unlike the one leading to the bedroom. I turned the knob and heard the usual clicking sound as it opened. Without even looking in there, I reached my arm in there, looking for the first thing to throw out of there. Luckily, I didn't have to try too hard to have my arm locate my "son" and throw him out. He was then lying down on the floor, just waiting for me to give it to him. I responded by raising my foot over his stomach and striking it down. This resulted in him bringing his arms down to it, protecting it. However, I quickly broke it up with a mighty kick to the stomach. I couldn't help but laugh at his struggling not to scream out in pain. But, it was then, that I thought of something. I brought my hands down to my waistline and quickly unbuckled my belt and quickly got it around and out. Once done, I unbuttoned his jacket and ripped off his white shirt, revealing his bare upper body. There was a large, white, soft sheet around his chest. I tore it off revealing his naked chest. I then brought my black belt and whipped across the left half of his body, leaving behind a red mark. I rose the whip and drove it across the right half, leaving another mark. I repeated this for a few minutes, just to make sure those marks never go away. At this point, he didn't rebel, to my relief. I then kicked on the side, so that his back would be revealed. I spent a few minutes whipping it, to form a nice, red belt around his lower upper body._

_By looking around, I understood that he didn't listen to me. I couldn't possibly recall making that hole this morning, I'm pretty sure I only beat him. Well, even if I did make it this morning, he should've plastered it. Oh wait, I did do it this morning. He shouldn't have been hanging out in his closet, now that's for sure. He should've been smart enough to get out of the closet I locked him in. It wasn't the first time he's done so. And just look at those damn blood stains, Jesus Christ!_

_"GET UP!" I ordered. "GET YOUR FUCKING SELF DRESSED AND HELP ME, DAMN IT!" he did as I told him. He got up, grudging in pain, but fast to ensure I don't pop him. He slipped into his clothes, and stood before me, awaiting what was next. "GET THE DAMN PLASTER!" I ordered him. He looked at me, like he had no fucking idea what I was talking about. "Plaster? Since when did we have plaster?" he asked hesitantly. And of course, he doesn't know. I gave him a clarification with a punch to the stomach; he recoiled in pain. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me!" I stormed off to get the plaster myself, since he was going to be no help. I locked his door on the way out, just so he'll be where I want him. I got back into the car and drove as fast as I could to Home Depot._

_Although his bedroom door is locked, I'd best be in and out quickly. I looked around and saw a fellow cashier nearby. I walked up to him and directed his attention. "Excuse me, sir, do you by chance have any plaster?" I asked in a fake, gentle voice. The young man looked at me like a professional in his work uniform. "Oh, I'm sorry. We're completely out. However, if you want, we can order it and give you a call when it comes." he informed. "Well, how long does it take for it to get here?" I asked curiously. "It should take anywhere between two and four weeks. You can pay up here right now. That way, when it comes, you can just pick it up." he answered. I sighed a little bit, but who knows what trouble could come. "Alright, I'll take it." I took out my wallet and removed my credit card. The transaction took less than a minute, to which afterwards, I received a receipt. "Here you are, sir. We'll call you when it arrives." he stated as he handed me the receipt. I gripped it and rushed out of the store. As I was driving home angrily, I was thinking of how to cover up that hole in the wall. It's sure as hell trying to do so without plaster. I thought quickly, and then came up with a solution._

_I pulled into my driveway and ran into the house as quickly as I could. I ended up running straight for the garage and into one of my tool boxes. I dug around in there for a minute and then pulled out a silver roll of duct tape. Then, I made a break upstairs and into his room. I took out my credit card and jammed it into the slit between the lock and the door and walked in. He was standing in front of the bed, facing the door, waiting for me. I walked quickly towards the wall, and pushed him hard to the side so I could get up there. I ripped off a long strip of tape with my hand and applied to the top part of the wall. I put my finger to the strip and poked at it. It was no plaster but I have to use it for now. I removed another strip and repeated, under the first one. I repeated this process several times until it covered the entire hole. I then walked over to the doorway for a view of how the display works. But, as I expected, the duct tape was still very visible from here. I thought for a minute, thinking of how I could make it invisible. I turned my attention to the bedroom window, which was illuminating beams of light. At the ends of the window were two blue curtains. I walked over to them, again pushing him hard to the side, and shut them tight, darkening the room. I walked back to the doorway for another look. Now, I could hardly see it at all._

_I flipped the light switch, allowing artificial light to enter, and directed my attention to him. "Do you any make up?!" I demanded. He nodded his head and walked over to his dressers. He dug through them for a minute until he picked up a thin, black, pen-like container. He handed it over to me and I read the label. It was black eyeliner. I was instantly able to recall that one time he used it, from when his little girl dumped him. For some time afterwards, I thought about why she did so. Of course, now I know. "Hold still and close your eyes!" I grudged and he obeyed. I twisted off the top to reveal it's the handle for the stylus. I took it and placed it over his right eyelid. I rolled it downward as his skin was starting to turn night black. I even took the liberty of doing the same thing for his eyelashes. Once fully black, I removed it and placed the stylus back in, to allow it to cover itself in another coat of the black stuff. Meanwhile, I ran to the bathroom for the first aid kit. I looked through that box and took out a big bag full of ice. I rushed back in and pressed it to his left eye, which was swollen shut. Every couple of minutes, I would remove it to see how the recovery was doing. It improved a little each time, but it took maybe forty five minutes or so for it to heal fully. I then placed it back into the box and ran back. I took the stylus back out and rolled it over the recovered eye. Once done, I walked to the doorway, turned off the light, and saw the displayed. Although it's not perfect, it is very believable. Now done, I punched the light switch, breaking it. I tested to make sure it was broken completely, and sure enough it was. I locked the door, and walked downstairs, satisfied. I walked out to my car to head back to work. After turning on the car, I looked at the radio clock. It read 3:13._

**To Be Continued**

**Please Review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Trey and Matt own this, not me.**

**Thanks for the reviews!**

**Kyle's POV**

We immediately parted at the end of the walkway and walked in opposite directions. As I walked, I contemplated what Stan was going to tell me. I felt like I had it until my damn mother felt like she just had to call at that moment. It's like I'm not supposed to know. Not only that, but only me and two others know that he's alive while my own family just give me some smartass glare. I feel like I need to show him to the world, reassure them that he's very well alive. But how will I do it? They didn't seem too sad or angry by his death, so how will they think when they realize that it was a hoax? And I fear the longer I hold this off, the more pissed off they will be. My mother would probably have a heart attack and my father would flip. Ike might remember this, given his age, but he'd be confused at the very least. If only things were easier, I would give Stan everything.

I had arrived at my house and went through the door, where both of my parents were expecting me. Mom was the one who broke the ice. "Kyle, we're concerned." she threw into the air. I knew exactly where this was going. "You seem to be balling up your emotions about your friend's death." she suggested. "What's make you say that?" I joined along in her act. "Well, for one, you seem to pretend that Stan is still alive." she reported. I lazily nodded my head to show her I'm still on board with this. Then, my father started pitching in. "We also noticed of how you suddenly stopped grieveing and started to appear a little afraid." he said. That was all he said before my mother rejoined. "Well, we just want to let you know that if you want to let out your feelings or get something off your chest, we're here for you." she assured. "Is there anything that you'd want to tell us right now?" my father asked. I shook my head, but my parents didn't budge. "It's alright, you don't have to be afraid to do so." my mother reassured. "I'm fine, Mom." I said before I rushed upstairs.

That night, I was tossing and turning. By the way Stan was, being around the classmates seemed to be the last thing he needed, but I didn't have the paitence to sit at school all day. I forced my eyes shut and my thoughts to vanish; in the hope of the night being short. It took a while, but I was somehow able to find sleep.

_The room contained bland, white walls and a window on one wall; presenting one of the usual mountain views. I had been in these rooms so many times they seemed to be a second home. I've even slept here many nights; either by sleeping on the couches in the waiting rooms or on the chairs in these rooms. I would be here, accompanied with my fellow companions, often for several days, even if I wasn't the one injured or ill. Afterward we would leave, healthy, and shake it off._

_But I can't shake off this trip, as I see before me a frail being on the bed. I had a sick feeling that he would slip away right here. I really didn't want it to happen; it would be the end for me. My visions starts to blur, but I was able to clear it with my hands. I find myself to walking over to the hospital bed, where my love and lover lied. The worst part about his condition is that I have no idea how it happened. The very mystery trembled my walk towards him. With every stride, I felt more immensely that my legs would suddenly and completely collapse. My struggle to keep my balance was certainly projectible to Stan. It was a fight and took a little bit of time, but I found myself by his side._

_My voice was harder to find than I had intended. The very sight of his suffering almost made me want to vomit. He looked at me wearily. Damn. "What happened to you?" I asked slowly and shakily. Stan also seemed to have a hard time speaking, but found his voice. "He found out." His response brought a cold shiver throughout my entire body. "What did he find out about?" I asked nervously. Stan appeared to be deteriorating with every shaken breath he took in. "About us." he revealed weakly. My vision started to blur again, and I wipe it off as I was starting to find out about horrors that befalled my lover. But this attempt was of no use. "Who did this to you?" I asked again, now on the brink of tears. _

_But Stan wasn't able to answer the way he did. He opened his mouth a little, as if he was about to tell me the perpetrator when he fell too weak. He slumped further onto his bed, his eyes were forced shut, and never again did they reopen. The movement was silent and quick, as if some being had come in and stabbed him quietly. The IV showed everything around it that Stan had just died, the line having gone flat and the everlasting sting. He was gone._

My eyes forced themselves open, and I was relieved that the experience was but a dream. I turned my head towards my nightstand, and brought my alarm clock to my eyes. The beaming, almost blinding, red numbers read 6:43. It was too late to go back to sleep at this point, so I gently pressed the snooze button on the top. Putting that aside, I brought myself out of bed, preparing for the school day.

As I was carrying on with my morning routine, I couldn't take my mind off the dream. I recalled the similar dream I had recently, and it seemed somewhat similar to the one I just had. I continued to ask myself why I keep having these horrible nightmares, with an answer keeping itself hidden. Were they paranoia? Maybe, although I have strong faith that he'll be alright.

After eating breakfast, I proceeded to the door to head to the bus stop, however I was stopped by my mother. "Is there any feelings you want to get out?" she asked almost desperately. I shook my head and headed out the door. I started making my short walk to the bus stop, uneventful as usual. At the bus stop, I saw Wendy standing there. Ever since Stan's death, Cartman and Kenny haven't been going to the bus stop. I still saw them at school, so I'm presuming that they've taken up other transportation. She noticed my presence and began to talk to me. "So what's going on?" was all she was able to say. I wasn't sure if I should tell her about my dreams. I probably figured that she wouldn't understand at the very least. I casually let her off with a good old, "fine".

She merely shrugged and we stood there for several minutes silent; almost ignoring each other's presence. I had arrived several minutes earlier than usual, so the wait was longer than most days. The two of us continued to be silent as the bus pulled up and we boarded. We somehow ended up sitting next to each other as Stan was absent again.

Once the bus started, she tried again to start a conversation. "So...about yesterday." she used as a pick up line. "Yes, I know." I gently retaliated "I'm really upset!" I whispered, attempting not to be heard by the whole bus. The look and grin on her face easily implied she knew why I was feeling the way I was. "It's so unfair! We were so damn close! What the hell did your mother want from you?!" she whispered. "It was entirely pointless! She still doesn't believe me about Stan!" Wendy was now shocked. "What?! She still doesn't know?!" "I keep on telling her, but she's too fucking rational to believe me!" I lamented. "Well, I suppose once Stan is ready to come out, he will come straight to your mom, because she needs to see him!" she planned. I was also thinking that, but I'm still not sure how exactly she would react.

The bus ride was short, as it usually was. The bus doors opened and we quickly filed out. The two of us met again once out of the masses. "We'll talk more at lunch, when no one will bother to listen." I told her. She nodded her head in compliance and she headed towards the building, with me following behind. Once inside, I headed towards my locker as usual to grab my books for the day. 's room was on the other side of the building from where my locker was, and I started heading on the somewhat long trek.

As I was walking, I started hearing someone call my name. "Kyle...Kyle." the voice was soft, but it sounded very familar. I thought I was just imagining it, and slapped myself across the face to bring me to realization. Yet the familar voice persisted. I slapped myself even harder, which sharpened my senses. The voice didn't die. I then walked to a nearby locker and using all my willpower and courage slammed my head on the locker several times. Pain stung my forehead, accompanied with a blistering headache. The voice didn't stop. I was sure the voice was saying my name, like it was the only word it knew. Suddenly, it told me something else. "In the bathroom." it said. There was a bathroom right next to me, and putting my ear to the door, seemed to be where it was coming from. I placed my hand on the door and pushed it gently, allowing it to open. I opened it only as much as I needed to. I was rather thinner than a lot of the other kids, so I was only able to open it a little before slipping through.

The bathroom was dark, which was very unusual for when people were in the building. I gropped around for the light switch. I have been into this bathroom enough so that I have a photographic blueprint of the vicinity. I felt my hand touch the light switch and turned it upward, allowing the artificial light to gleam into my eyes. And yet, no one was directly in front of me. "Hello?" I attempted to signal. I got a response almost immediately. "In the stall." he directed me. I began to walk towards the stall, though I already had a slim idea of who was in there. The door was unlocked and I almost slammed it open. Just as I had suspected, a very familar boy was sitting on the toilet. Right there, I grasped him with my arms and brought him in for an embrace. Stan also seemed to be on board, and returned his affection. After a long minute of hugging I slowly slipped out.

"What the hell are you doing here?" was the first thing that could get out of my mouth. "I couldn't bear to be without you an longer. It's just been too long." he expressed. They didn't sound very extemporaneous, however they were truthful and felt. And anyhow, I was very happy that he was there. I didn't think that I'd be able to concentrate throughout the day. Now that he's here, I'll at least have a valid excuse. "Come on, we best be getting to class. I have _a lot _to catch up on." he warmly guided me out. I accepted. "Yes, you certainly do." I agreed.

We arrived in 's room literally seconds before the bell rang; everyone was already in class. , on the other hand, was reading a book with a homemade book cover on it. We were both able to take our seats before he placed it down. The class went silent. He had immediately noticed Stan. "Well well, Stanley. Glad you're back." he welcomed in a blank tone. "We were beginning to think you'd never come back!" Cartman sarcastically remarked. The class started to talk up a little, with me not paying attention. "Alright class, let's settle down now." the class slowly quieted down. Once they appeared to have his attention, the teacher continued. "Now class, as we all know, the last day of school is in three days." the class immediately uproared in applause. "Yes, I know! I know!" he attempted to speak over them, which didn't work. Instead of yelling at them to try to get them to stop, he went over to his desk and took out a silver whistle. I had an idea of where this was going. However, this whistle is a lot louder than whistles I had heard before. It's deafening sound silenced the class in a heartbeat.

He then placed the whistle aside and continued. "Yes, I know. However, last time I checked, it's not Friday! There's still stuff to learn, homework to do, and tests to take. So if you're gonna have any chance of passing, you're gonna have to get fucking comfortable for the next three days!" he shouted. He then went over and pointed at Stan. "Especially you, Stanley!" He then went back to proceed with the day's plans. I took his message straight to heart and did whatever I could to pay attention. My lovefilled and even sexual thoughts only took up half my train of thought. Despite this, lunch rolled around.

I went to the table, with Wendy and Stan sitting down across from me. I waited for a moment for them to settle down. "So...about yesterday." I started awkwardly. Stan looked up. "Yeah, what about it?" he attempted to forget about it. "Yeah! So...what were you going to say to me?" I asked. He continued his bold attempt to forget yesterday. "What do you mean?" I could tell that he's uncomfortable. "Well, you were going to tell me what those men did to you." I simplified. "Oh that!" he pretended to remember. "I'm pretty sure I already told you that." he escaped. I continued to simplify, "You were going to tell me, however I was interrupted. My mom called me, told me to come home that instant." "Well even if I didn't tell you, I was probably only going to tell you something you already know." And with that he awkwardly got up and walked away. I don't know whether or not he cares, I will find out.

**To Be Continued**

**I apologize for the long hiatus. Ever since school started, it's been difficult to find time. Now that I'm settling down, however, I'll be able to update more frequently. Continue to read and review!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks for all the reviews.**

**I do not own this, Trey and Matt do.**

**Kyle's POV**

After that, I did not see him for the rest of the day. Not even in class. I don't understand why Stan would seem so desperate to keep something away from me. But chills went down my spine that whatever he was hiding was horrible. So horrible that he didn't want to hurt me; I am the most valuable thing to him ever, and he doesn't want me damaged. But I fear the longer he keeps this horrible act up, the more damaged _he _will become.

After lunch, recess rolled by. I didn't exactly do much without Stan to hang out with. And I still haven't seen Kenny anywhere. It's like the world is starting to drift from me, one person at a time, starting from the most important down. As a matter of fact, I didn't even see Stan in the background either. To my relief, though, there were no burnings or mass inflammation upon him.

Back in class, I still didn't see him, and that was when I began to get really worried. Stan wouldn't normally miss class, unless it was for a reason. No matter what could've happened to him, he seemed perfectly fine this morning. If he left school, I would've found out about it. Anyway in class, is doing all he can to ensure that we were ready for the end of the year tests. I had done whatever I could to pay attention but I just couldn't. I was so distracted that it seemed like was speaking a foreign language. I kept my head up though to make him think I was paying attention. All the while, I couldn't stop thinking, with my head in the clouds. That was until gave out a yell that brought me back to earth. I shook my head in order to come to realization.

"Kyle! I'm fucking talking to you!" he yelled. "What is it?" I said a little shakily. "I want you to tell me if Stanley skipped class!" he ordered. "I...don't know." I told him. "Don't know?! It's a fucking question! Either yes or no, there is no 'I don't know!'" he sneered. "I only saw him at lunch. He just got up and went somewhere." I complied. "And where did he go?" he asked annoyed. "I don't know, he just...left!" I stated. "And you didn't look back to see where he went?" he asked unusually. "Of course not. Why would I?" I responded awkwardly. "Gee...that's a pretty weird thing to ask. Why wouldn't someone see where someone's going." he sarcastically remarked. "I don't follow." was all I was able to say. "Well it's obvious. The two of you are so close that I can't even call you brothers, oh no! You two are basically one person! You should know damn well where he goes whenever he goes there and the same applies for him! Do I have to make it any simpler than that?!" he rudely simplified. I had to admit, I was dazed and confused. Does this mean that he knows the truth? And further more, does it really mean that much to him? I began to fear that I'm losing him; that he's going with the others. Why else would he be asking _me _where he is. Looking at him though, he expected an answer out of me. " , I honestly don't know where he is, I swear! If I knew where he was I would tell you honest!" He looked unmoved by what I said, but instead of further questioning he turned his train of thought. "Oh well, we'll just carry on without him, _shall_ we!" he sneered. He then went back to teaching.

My mind went lost again as I thought about . I had become extremely nervous of him about us. The first thing that couldn't quite get to my mind was how the hell he even found out. Did somebody tell? Another thing that went through my mind was Stan's love poem. I'm thinking about how he recited it so lovingly. However, now that the thought comes to mind, I begin to think of how _everyone else_ felt. Most of the class had particulary straight faces, but completely lost in terms of its meaning. The only people who seemed to get it other than me was Cartman and of course, . Their reactions seemed rather different but with a similar impact. Cartman was just being himself as he was trying his hardest not to break out laughing. I somewhat glanced at who's mouth was agape, almost petrified. It was quite certain that they both didn't like the poem. But what I can't understand is why they would take something that has nothing to do with them and try to strike it down in the most abusive way possible. I don't understand why we can be together in peace.

Before I knew it, the bell rang and everyone started filing out as a stampede; rushing to make it to the buses on time. If Stan were truly going to be heading out then he would've already been back. That's when the fear truly started to overwhelm me. It was almost certain that something did happen to him. Hell knows where he is right now, or how much he could be suffering. Wendy had already left for the buses, so there was no point in going back. I would have to find him alone.

The first place I went to was his locker, thinking there might be some sort of clue. I quickly cracked the combination and opened the space, which unfortunately had nothing suspicious. Everything was in its normal position with nothing out of the ordinary. Closing it, I decided the next stop would probably be my own locker. I opened it and also found it quite normal. I felt like I should've known better, for the suspect wouldn't have left any clues. I continued to look into the classrooms up and down the halls, but to no avail. I searched in the bathroom where I first saw him but he wasn't there either. Hell, I even checked the woman's bathroom.

I then realized that wherever he was wasn't obvious. I began to run through all the unchecked places I could think of. There's no way in hell that he could fit into a locker, even though he was smaller than the fatass. I'd figured that he'd be sent to 's office for being in the teacher's lounge, or in Garrison's desk. Despite this, I checked anyway. Garrison and the other teacher's had already left, so it was fairly easy to get to. Just like the other places, not even a trace of him. I then quickly double checked my locker as well as his out of a crazy urge.

I know the school like the back of my hand, since I've been going there for four years. I also heard many rumors about secret rooms that appear to not exist. I didn't believe that they existed, however now that I think about it, I never really looked to see. I know it seems retarded, however I must search everywhere possible in the school. I actually to literally search every square inch of the school to try to find these heard of places. As I walked the halls, I banged on lockers and called his name, once again ensuring that no person could fit into a locker.

I continued to investigate; banging at every wall and crevice. After checking the first floor, I immediately took the other staircase to the top floor. This is one place I don't commonly go up. It was also a struggle, given my crutches, but I was able to pull through. On top of the stairs, I began tapping the walls when I felt a weak spot. My head immediately turned and it revealed some sort of panel in the wall. It's a tough fit, though, seeing how it's so invisible. I attempted to squeeze my fingers into the spaces in order to pull it out, but even my small fingers could get through. I raised one of my crutches to the panel to see how stuck it was on there. It seemed pretty firm. I then moved back a little bit, and using all of my momentum charged towards the panel. Despite my crutches, one blow was all it took to bust the panel through. I ended up falling with the panel into the wall. The flourescent lights allowed me to see the newly discovered space. And to my surprise, I saw another set of stairs within the wall. I began ascending them as the space grew darker and darker. At the end of the staircase, it was nearly pitch black. I placed one of my crutches aside and groped around for a light switch. It took a minute of moving around but I was able to find it. I flicked it upward and found a hallway similar to that of the second floor. It was another floor.

This was huge. I had a clear vision of the school from the outside and it only looked like it had two floors. I had no idea why this floor is never used nor is it barred off in such a clever way, however I had a strong feeling it'd be a _great _hiding place. It was either this or he left the building, more likely the former. I began to repeat the traditional procedure for the floor, banging on lockers and calling his name. When I got to the first classroom, I jiggled the door's knob and it opened. It then occured to me that just about every door on the floor was in fact unlocked. I walked into the room and began to investigate the room. Aside from the authority desk at the front, there weren't many nooks and crannys. I continued this process for the other rooms, which didn't take too much time. Unfortunately, I didn't find him.

After searching a number of the rooms, I approached a bathroom. I opened it to be once again met by darkness. I found the switch and allowed the light to fill the room. Unlike most of the rooms I searched thus far, this one was by far the most horrific. I found several small blood puddles on the ground, accompanied by bits of vomit. I investigated the scene, but it didn't take long to get to one of the stalls. I have found him, however he was beaten. Fear struck my system. I took his wrist and placed my fingers on it. To my relief, my fingers felt a rhytmic pulse emitting. I then placed him in my arms and waited for him to awake.

For a while, the room was absolutely quiet. I had no idea how much time had passed; I'd say an hour at the least. I had been in there for so long that I started to grow tired and wanted to rest just as Stan was doing at the moment. I began to close my eyes, hoping sleep would come. Within minutes I began to hear screaming. "STOP IT!" I immediately opened my eyes and found Stan screaming in his dream. "WHAT'S WRONG WITH THAT?! I THOUGHT YOU WOULD ACCEPT ME!" I had thought he was getting angry, however there was a clear sense of fear in his voice. As he spoke he grew more and more terrified. "Just leave me alone!" I knew then that I had to step in. "Stan, it's alright! It's only a dream!" And with that, he woke up dazed.

It took him a few seconds to realize where he was. Once he saw me he beared in for a hug. "Are they gone?" he asked innocently. Though I was only assuming what had happened, I played along. "Yes, you're safe." We then laid there for awhile, enjoying each other's presence. Now that things seemed alright, I helped him to his feet and we walked out. I may have been wearing crutches, however I was able to help out my love. I helped him down the stairs, through the hallways, and finally out of the building.

We walked back down to our street and I purposely missed his house. Stan immediately noticed this but he didn't say a word. We eventually got to my house, where I had intended for us to be. When we arrived, Stan decided to speak up. "This isn't my house. Why are we here?" he asked now having regain his voice. "I need to show you something." I assured him. I then took the crutch I was using for support and held it within my arm, freeing my hand. I turned the knob and opened the door. As I had expected, both my parents were waiting in the foyer. But they were not angry as they usually would be. In fact I smiled to myself. My mother then spoke completely blown. "Stanley...is that really you?" I then looked over to Stan, giving him a chance to speak. He seemed pretty confident despite not really being prepared. "Of course, ." he responded. She then turned over to me. "Kyle, do you know what's going on here?" she asked me. I directed Stan again. He appeared even more confident.

"Well, I'm not sure if you'll believe me. I not expecting you to, or anybody. But it all began about six days with a poem, you know, for homework. Some people wrote about whatever, but not me. , I'm not sure if you know this, but I'm in love with your son. There, I said it." I was worried right there. I don't think my mother really looks like she would accept homosexuality, especially from her own children. "Kyle, are you aware about this?" she asked. I nodded my head slowly. I felt like she was going to give it to me now. She then calmed down and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Well if this is what you want, I just want to let you know that you have our support." I was shocked. She spent years fighting against 'evil' causes, and I had thought that sexual orientation was high on her agenda. I was now relaxed and Stan continued in a strife of confidence.

He then spent a while telling me everything that happened. As it turned out, those three men did so much more than I thought. They "killed" my Stan. Raped, beaten, and tortured. My mood was quickly boiled into anger. I wanted to find those three men and have them sentenced to death. I want to hold my Stan and protect him, to love him. Somehow, I will make sure revenge is brought and justice is ordered.

**To Be Continued**

**Sorry guys! School plus writer's block equal hell. Please continue to read and review!**


	18. Chapter 18

**I do not own this, Trey and Matt do.**

**Randy's POV**

_September 5, 1983. I was awaken by the soothing call of my mother. "Come on, Randy! Today's a big day for you!" She was right. Today was my first day of preschool. I was very nervous, for I didn't know any of the kids I would see that day. My parents didn't take me to daycare, like others. I instead had a babysitter, Anne. She was the daughter of our neighbors, the Tufts. They only lived a couple houses down from us. However she had graduated from high school back in June and had already headed off to college. I never found out which one she actually went to, but I never saw her again. A shame for me, she was beautiful. Her hair was night black, just like mine, her eyes were brown chocolates, and her skin tone was goddess-like. Contrary from one's perception at a beautiful woman like her, she was as caring as her looks. She always fed me my favorite foods, let me watch my favorite shows, and always had a smile on her face. Now that she was gone, I was left with kids my own age; the ones that I would meet today. I just couldn't do it._

_"But Mommy, I don't want to go to!" I whined. My innocent voice made me think she would give me a break. "But, sweetie. It'll be a lot of fun. You'll meet lots of new friends to play with. There are lots of toys and games, some you may have never seen before." But I didn't want to believe it. I didn't care about toys; I had a lot already. "But...what if the kids are mean to me?" I asked worriedly. "They won't be mean. They're all there to play and make new friends. I'm not saying you or them have to befriend every single kid in there, but they don't have to be mean to the ones they don't like. If you don't do anything mean to the kids you don't like, then they won't have a reason to be mean to you." I kind of understood what she meant. "Come on, I'll make you pancakes." she fetched. Pancakes were my favorite thing to have for breakfast. I found myself out of bed and followed her downstairs._

_After eating breakfast, we went into the car and she drove me to South Park Elementary. The building seemed massive at first sight, withh its high walls and enormous windows and shit. Any fear that had been lost was now vented back up. The moment we got out of the car, I grabbed my mother's leg. "Mommy! No!" I complained. "What's wrong?" she concerned. "I change my mind! I wanna go home!" I yelled. "Look, sweetie. We're already here, we might as well head in." she then softly grabbed my hand and started to direct me in. I couldn't help myself but follow her._

_The inside of the building looked more comforting, despite my worries. There were already a bunch of kids there, however my fear started to build up again when I saw that there were no parents. I tugged my mother's pants. "Mommy, where's the other kids' mommy's?" "Why they already left. Don't worry, I'll be back to pick you up at noon, when preschool gets out." Her soothing voice failed to sedate my fear. "But Mommy, what if the other kids are mean to me, and you aren't there to stop it?" I repeated my question from earlier. "Don't worry, the teacher, Mrs. Combs will make sure that you don't get hurt or picked on." She then pointed her to me and began to direct me to her. Mrs. Combs seemed very nice. She had brown eyes, reminiscent of Anne, but brown, raggid hair. My mother then began to talk to the teacher, while I stood by her side. I wasn't really paying attention to them. After a minute, my mother kneeled down beside me and spoke. "I'll pick you up at noon when the other kids get out. If there's any trouble, tell Mrs. Combs. She'll tell me and I'll come pick you up from there." She then planted a kiss on my cheek. "Love you." was all she said before turning to leave the building._

_I wanted to start banging at the door the moment she left but I knew that wouldn't work. I'd figured it was time to do what my mother told me to do and make new friends. I started walking around the room, looking for someone to play with. Everyone else was already playing with their new friends and were heavily focused. I didn't want to interupt them. There were still a bundle of toys to play with. They were mainly over in the corner of the room, where all the cubbies and shelves were located. I began to walk over to them when something caught my eye. In another corner of the room was another kid; seated on the floor, alone. He had brown, combed hair and wore glasses. But from where I was standing, I was also able to see his light colored eyes. They were light green, almost yellow. But they also contained a bit of blue in them as well. Seeing as though I will not be able to get into the others' games, I saw an opportunity to make a friend._

_I walked over to him and sat down beside him. He was preoccupied with looking at the playing children and failed to notice me. I then brought him over with a mere "Hey." He immediately turned over and noticed me. "Oh, hello." he said in a clear voice. This furthered our similarities with a slight shyness, but a clear, confident voice. I don't understand why I was shy, nor him. "I couldn't help but notice that you were sitting alone." I perceived. "Oh, I'm not very good at making friends." he told me. "Me neither." I complied. "What's your name?" I added. "Justin." he responded. Before he even asked me back, I gave him my name. "Randy." Justin then rose and pointed to the shelves and cubbies I was orignially heading for. "Do you want to play?" he asked. I nodded my head and then I got up. _

_We played with whatever. The time we had in those ten minutes were fantastic. We would've continued, when Mrs. Combs told us all to come together. We all then sat in one big cluster. There was a hierarchy of friends who sat next to each other. Some are pairs, others are groups. I, of course, sat next to Justin. Once we were all settled, Mrs. Combs sat down in a wooden rocking chair. "Alright, children. Now, you will each come up and talk about yourself." I felt as if this was a really good chance to get to know my new friend. I thought about it as the other kids went up and didn't really pay attention. Mrs. Combs didn't really mind that my mind was in the clouds, considering that I was only in preschool. "...Randy Marsh. You may head up now." I felt really excited coming up and talk about myself to Justin. "Hi everybody, I'm Randy! My birthday is March 1 and my favorite thing is animals. Also, my best friend in the whole world is Justin right there." I pointed at Justin before taking my seat. Since I wasn't really paying attention, I'm not sure if my presentation was like the others. Whether by fate or by choice, Justin went up next and thats when I learned his full name: Justin Ryans. His presentation was very similar, if not word through word of mine._

_At noon, my mother came back as promised. She picked me up and took me home. I really didn't want to leave. Luckily, right before I left, I asked him for his address. He lives just a few houses down from mine. I never really got out so I didn't know it. As we were driving home, my mother picked up conversation. "So, did you make any new friends?" she asked me. I nodded my head. "Is that so. Who is he?" "Justin." I told her confidently. Her face was very intrigued. "Does he live near here?" "Yes. He lives only a couple houses down." Her face continued to show enthusiasm as did mine. "Well we'd best set up a play date for you two." she suggested. "Yeah!" I complied._

_**6 Years Later**_

_April 6, 1990. Fourth Grade was waning fast, however school was still school. A lot of the friendships that originally formed at preschool were either damaged, split, or dissipated all together. Few of them remain as they are, however they are mostly only groups of four or more. But me and Justin had been close. We both said on the first day we met that we'd be super best friends forever. And we've both been doing so, with our relationship growing ever larger. Over the years, we even befriended the rest of the kids in our grade. They liked me, and they liked him, but they're all aware about us too._

_Today started off as a normal Friday; boring classes but then the weekend. Me and Justin would usually hang out on Fridays, and having sleepovers every other week. But this Friday was different. My parents have left that morning to go on a second honeymoon. Over the last couple of years, my parents' marriage has been going downhill and as far as I'm concerned, both their sex life and their love were over. Of course they didn't say that to me and my older sister, Jessica, however just about anybody can detect it. They need this second honeymoon in order to avoid a total breakup. They didn't tell us where they were staying. All they said was that they wouldn't be back until Wednesday and we shouldn't leave them any calls. My parents trusted Jessica to watch over the house while they were away, and she complied with them. However, the minute they went out the door, she was in her room packing to stay over at her best friend, Erin's house. That's purely amazing! Five days with me and Justin with the house all to ourselves. I didn't tell him about it yet, but I will when we get to school._

_I happily got on the bus to go to school and sat next to Justin, as usual. I have already decided to wait until the end of school to tell him. We warmly talk on the bus and throughout our classes. It seemed like a normal day to me, with me laughing and smiling as with him. We then heard the lunch bell ring and we walked among the masses. But then something unlikely happened. When I got to the cafeteria, he wasn't behind me. The crowds in the hallways are always hectic, but we always end up sticking together. I'd figured I sit down and wait for him to come in with the rest of the people. Everybody filed in and I continued to wait for him. When he didn't show up, that's when I started to get concerned. I got up from where I was sitting and began to awkwardly walk around the cafeteria, looking to see if he failed to find me or if he ended up sitting with someone else. I spent what felt like ten minutes looking for his face, but was nowhere to be found. That was when things started to get very serious. _

_Without thinking otherwise, I ran out of the cafeteria as quickly as I could, ignoring everything else. I went into the nearest empty hall and just skimmed one door to the next. Before I knew it, I was at the men's bathroom. It was there that I heard a moaning sound. I opened the first stall where I found Justin sitting on the toilet, with his whole body shaking, sobbing._

_I immediately went over to him and beared my arms around him for a deep hug. While we were in our embrace, I whispered onto his shoulder, "What happened?" It took a while for him to find his composure. "A bunch of kids cornered me and beat the shit out of me." he said weakly. This shocked me. We had made such good friends with everyone else, and now they senselessly beat up my best friend. "Why?" I asked concerned. "I can't tell you!" he replied despondently. That was when I became concerned. Now my best friend doesn't trust me enough to tell him anything. "Of course you can." I reassured. Justin began to lose himself again. "But...I don't wanna lose you." "You're not gonna lose me. You can tell me anything." Justin found a little confidence, and then he spoke. "I'm...I'm..." he seemed to be at a pause. "What are you?" I asked concerned. "...gay." he finished softly. I barely even heard it. "Gay? But why?" I demanded further intrigue. "Well, I don't know exactly when it started. For a year know I had these...'urges'. But then I knew for certain last month." he hesitated, but then continued. "I've been meaning to tell everyone for that last month, but I kept my damn mouth shut. When I finally found the confidence to open up, look what fucking happened." he lamented. "So, Randy...I'm prepared for _you_ to start giving me the abuse I deserve." he broke away from the hug and offered himself. "Punch me, kick me, beat the life out of me! Come on, come me a queer, a homo! I don't deserve you Randy, because I'm fucking gay. So I'm here for you to give it to me!" I walked over to his shaking body and hugged him again, this time even tighter. "I don't mind that you're gay. That will never change the way I view you." Now, he joined into the hug. "Thank you, Randy. You're a great friend." he whispered into my shoulder. "You know, I have the house all to myself for five days, do you want to have a huge hangout?" I asked. I felt him nod. We then remained in our hug for a few more minutes, until we had to head to class._

_Immediately after school, me and Justin walked together to my house. When we got there, I got the spare key from under the 'Welcome' mat and opened the door. By then, Justin was a lot better. "So, what do you want to do?" I asked. "I have to go get some stuff. I'll be right back." he dashed out of the house. After ten minutes, he returned with his backpack and sleeping bag. We then agreed to watch a bunch of R-rated movies stashed in the basement. We were up until midnight before we headed upstairs to my room._

_"You know, this hangout was a really good idea." he complimented. "Yes, I was gonna tell you at the end of the day so that we could go right from school. But, seeing how you were, I just needed to announce it." I confirmed. "Well, I'm very glad you accept me as a gay person. There's really only one person that I truly love." "Well, who is the lucky man?" I chuckled. "Oh, I don't know if I can tell you that." he seemed to downgrade from being comical. "Of course you can, now who is it?" I asked again. This time, however, he went over to his backpack. He opened it and began digging through it. He then pulled out a couple lines of rope, each about the same length. I wondered why he had brought them in the first place. "Strip!" he instructed. I started to get a bad feeling. "Why?" I asked worried. "I said strip!" he repeated. Now I figured out who he's in love with. "I don't understand why you would-" he went back to his backpack and this time pulled out a kitchen knife. "You still don't wanna strip?!" he threatened. That time, I gave in. I began to remove my clothes article by article. I was now down to my underwear. "Take them off as well!" he demanded. "No!" I protested. He then brought the knife to my throat. "You wanna die?!" he whispered into my ear. Tears began to form in my eyes, however I refused to let them fall. "No." I said weakly. He then removed the knife from my throat. "Then take them off!" he ordered again. I did as he said._

_I knew that things would get worse from there. "Now lie down!" he yelled. Not wanting that knife to come near me again, I rested my naked body face down on the bed. I couldn't see it, but he then took one of the lines of rope from earlier and tied one end around my left hand. He took the other end and tied it to one of the ends of the bed. He repeated this with the other line on the other hand. I then heard him start to take off his clothes as well. I already had the thought of rape in my head, but now it was official. I then felt him get on the bed. "If you scream, you die!" he warned. By now, my eyes were flooded. "I don't understand. Why are you doing this?!" I asked weakly. He placed his mouth to my ear one last time, "Because I love you." he whispered. He then began to thrust himself inside me. The pain was incredibly unbearable. All I wanted to do was to yell so that the whole world could hear, all the while Justin was having the time of his life. It seemed to go on forever, with his euphoric moans of joy. He wasn't my Justin anymore, but an entirely different person._

_Justin then seemed to exit me. He seemed very relaxed and happy doing so. He redressed himself. But as he saw my face after untying me, he just took his things and ran out as fast as he could. I don't know why. But one that one night, everything became clear. Homosexuals are the people from hell. Some are born that way, while others are plagued with this horrible thing. I was never really gay, and I don't think I ever will be. But whatever the turnout is, I will make sure that none of my family is gay. I will make sure that no one ever knows what happened on the night of April 6, 1990. I will make sure my children and wife never find out about Justin Ryans. The Marsh family is a straight family, and God damnit it will be that way._

**To Be Continued**

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	19. Chapter 19

**I do not own any of this. Trey and Matt do.**

**Thanks for all the reviews!**

**Kyle's POV**

As with all of his visits, I wished Stan would never leave. The only thing in the way of all that is my overbearing mother, who had just learned that I was gay. And I had just learned that my friend was raped by the same guys that "killed" him. I asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner. "Yes." he agreed quickly. Very quickly. However, my mother barged in. "Well don't you think your parents will be worried?" "No, they'll be fine." Stan concerned. "But Stanley, I know your parents quite well. I'm sure that they don't want to lose you again." I had to admit, she did have a point, but Stan seemed so eager to stay. "Don't worry, we can come over if you like sometime." she offered, but Stan wouldn't give in. "That's a really nice offer , but I assure you that my fa-" before he could finish, my mother jumped in again. "Well, either way, I still think it's best if you'd be heading home." Stan looked like he wanted to continue, however he decided not to. "I understand . I will leave." he subjected himself before opening the door and exiting. I briefly peered out the window to see him running as fast as he could towards his house. I hardly bothered to fight back.

My mother's face became filled with confusion and shock. I understand how she feels. I, too, would become shocked if I heard my son were gay. I'm also surprised that she believes Stan's story, and I guess I'm a little skeptical myself. "Mom, is there something wrong?" what a stupid question. "Oh, I don't know what to say. I just find everything hard to contemplate. I mean, are you sure he _really _died?" she asked me. "I did see the heart monitor flatline, Mom. He could've have a near-death experience, but I'm not sure." "Well, a whole day seems an awful long time for a near-death experience, Kyle." she paused a second before continuing. "If it really was, then the doctors could've brought him back within minutes." "We did go to the wake." I remembered to my self. "Well...whatever happened, I think I can talk to Stan's parents about it. They had only been there a few minutes when I ran out of the hospital. They must've stayed." I guessed. "Well, I think you should go over there and talk to them about it. Besides, I'm sure that they'll appreciate your visit." my mother suggested. I figured that it was worth a shot. I started towards the door, "I'll be back in a little bit." I told her before heading out the door.

I took the usual route towards Stan's house, just a little down the street. As I approached the house, I saw 's car, parked in the driveway. I prefer over him, however he'll just have to do, considering he was in that hospital room as well. I reached the door, freed an arm from the crutch, and knocked on the door, awaiting 's presence. I waited a minute, and then another, and another. As the minutes dragged by (I wasn't carrying a watch, however at the moment, the seconds flowed through my system) nobody answered the door. The windows on the first floor were as lit as usual, and there was always at least one person down there. I got down from the doorstep to look into the living room window. The rooms were lit, however no one was in sight. To see if anyone was in the kitchen I tapped on the window, hoping someone would hear. No being emerged. I then moved to the dining room window. Unfortunately, no one was there either. I then recalled the spare key under the "Welcome" mat. I went quickly over to the mat and lifted it. Unlike normal, the key wasn't there. The key was always there; something had to be wrong in order for it to not.I thought quickly, before opening the gate leading to the backyard, which was unlocked. I then approached the glass sliding door. I saw nobody in that kitchen. I then attempted to open the sliding door, but it was locked too. It then came across my mind that the Marshes wanted some alone time. Any attempt to break in would sully their trust. I turned around and headed home.

When I arrived back at my house, my mother had retired to the couch in the living room. "You're back early." she greeted. "Yes, I am." I agreed. "So, what did Stan's parents say?" she asked eagerly. "I couldn't get in. Their doors were locked." I told her honestly. "Oh...well, there probably busy right now. I'll let you go back over after dinner." "Okay." was all I said before I went up to my room.

I spent a good while upstairs studying for my finals. I still don't understand why would give us finals in fourth grade, but my mother would kill me if I failed. As I flipped through my textbooks, I kept a window in my mind open for Stan. If my mother had found out sooner, then me and Stan could've been working together so that he could catch up. Every once in a while, I would peer towards my alarm clock to keep track of time. After checking the clock for the fourth time, I kind of got lost in my studying. I don't know why, but I just began to read over the pages of my textbooks. My train of thought was finally halted with my mother's call down for dinner. I looked at the alarm clock, where it read 5:36. Grabbing my crutches, I headed down for dinner. We had fruit salad, as that was the most nutrious thing that was completely kosher. As I ate, I didn't talk. Afterwards, I got up and came to the door again. "I'm going out to try again." I told my mother before heading out.

I approached the door again and knocked. This time, however, I was greeted by . "Oh, hello Kyle." she rudely greeted, however I shoved it off. Instead of greeting her back, I got right to the chase. "Where's Stan?" gave me a look of puzzlement, as if she had no idea what I was talking. "What?" I repeated my question, and she seemed to take in what I said. "I don't what you're talking about." she responded. I felt confused to have to spell_ this_ out to her. "You know, your son. The most important thing in my life, your life, his family." I clarified. She was still puzzled. "I'm sorry, you're at the wrong address." she passed me off. She then began to close the door when I stopped her. "But, , this is his home...Did he go out at all?" I asked. She shook her head. "Listen, I don't know who you're talking about. I assure that this person never once came into this house or my life. Good day!" she tried to shut the door again, but this time I put one of my crutches in the way. "Well...can I at least come in?" at this point I was pleading. opened the door and allowed me to come in.

I made my way over to the living room where I found the rest of the family. Stan was sitting on the floor as they were watching television. Although he was looking at the screen, Stan had terror on his face. Nobody else in the room acknowledged or even noticed it, and I started to wonder. Stan's mother is the most caring member of the family. Everytime she was with him, she always wanted to talk about how he was feeling. She knew what was on his conscious from the slightest signs. Now, she's acting like he doesn't even exist. Also, why would Stan be scared? Now that I'm here, he should be secure. I just knew that he knew of my presence.

"Look who decided to come over." addressed the family. Everyone, including Stan, turned to me. "What is he here for?" asked. I decided to answer for on this one. "My mom wanted me to talk to you." "About what?" demanded. "Everything...that has happened over the last week." I answered. "Well, what happened last week?" Now I was getting a little worried. "You know, about your son." I know had Stan's attention. "Son? What son?" he asked. _"He sitting right there!"_ I thought to myself. Instead of addressing him, I decided to go over to Stan myself. I couldn't believe what his father was saying right in front of him. I got by Stan's side and hugged him tightly, for all to see. Stan opened himself up as well, and enjoyed the embrace. I wasn't paying attention to the others in the room. That was, until we were forcefully separated. I saw an infuriated between the two of us. He then took Stan, and led him out of the room and upstairs. During all of this, he made an effort to seem calm.

I was confused. " , what's going on?" I asked, concerned. was silent for a moment before answering. "Well, I think it's best if you headed home, Kyle. My husband is a little upset right now." she dismissed me. However, I wanted more. "But why is he upset? Is there something I did wrong?" I demanded. "My husband gets upset over the silliest things; you never realize what sets him off." she answered. But I knew better. We did more serious things and he never gave a damn. But I didn't want to make even more mad by arguing with her. I turned and began to walk to the door. I was in the foyer when suddenly, out of nowhere, I heard a loud banging sound. I was frozen in place. Seconds after the noise, the exact noise was made again. After a few more seconds, it happened again. I thought by now that it would've ceased, however it continued. In fact, it was now coming out more frequently. Also, muffled screams were faintly being heard as well. I looked up, and noticed the sound was coming from upstairs. I ascended the stairs, and the sound grew louder, and the muffled screams became more evident.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I looked left and right, to see where the noise was emitting from. I turned right towards Stan's room. I placed my ear against the door to hear the clatters persisting. I tried to open the door, however it was locked. I then dug into my pockets, looking for something to help me. I then discovered the credit card I used from earlier. I jammed it into the crevice and heard the lock click. Taking in a breath, I open the door. What I saw was absolutely horrific. I saw slamming Stan into a wall, creating a hole. I looked around, and I saw at least two other holes. And on Stan's face is a long strip of duct tape covering his mouth. hadn't heard me open the door. I'm glad he didn't. Acting quickly, I rushed into the room. " STOP IT!" I intervened as he lifted Stan once again. He turned around and saw me. He slammed Stan into the floor and approached me. I was now terrified and confused. "Why are you doing this?!" I asked angrily. "GET OUT FAG!" he yelled. He turned back to a defenseless Stan. " , Stan is the most inmportant person in my life! Why are you hurting him like this?!" I demanded. "Well, I'm giving this QUEER what he deserves! You're so lucky you're not _my _son! Now get the fuck out before I turn you into your boyfriend!" he threatened. I didn't move. Instead, I called Stan to come to me. He tried very painfully to scurry over to me, but grabbed him liked a dog. "Please, ! Leave him alone!" I now had tears in my eyes. When he valiantly refused to hand him over, I had to use force. I rushed over to and try to take Stan myself, however is both bigger and stronger than me. I barely had him within my reach when pushed me off my crutches, to the ground with all his force. I looked up at him, completely hopeless. I was too overwhelmed and shoken to have tried again. Scrambling back onto my crutches, I got of there as quickly as I could. I got out the door and moved so quickly over the short route that I tripped clumsily several times. I arrived back at my house and made it up the stairs. Back in my room and into my bed, everything that had just happened replayed in my mind over and over again. I cried for all of Stan's abuse, and wondered why would be awful towards Stan; just for being gay. I cried out of guilt for not being strong enough to stop from hurting Stan. Why do I have to be such a God damn pussy?!

**To Be Continued**

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	20. Chapter 20

**I do not own any of this. Trey and Matt do.**

**Kyle's POV**

From my bed I heard the open. I looked up and saw that it was my mother. I rubbed my eyes to try to appear normal. "Oh...so did you talk to the Marshes?" she asked awkwardly. I nodded my head. "Did you find out what happened to Stan? You know, about his "death"?" she continued. I completely forgot about that. "No...I..uh...forgot." I answered shakily. "Well...do you wanna go back over tomorrow?" she offered. Oh God, the whole visit is replaying in my mind. "No.." I say even weaker. She still wouldn't leave. Instead she sat down beside me on my bed. "Kyle, did something...go wrong?" Tears have reformed in my eyes. "No..." I did my best not to cry in front of my mother. "Kyle, I heard you running in the door. You don't have to push me off your back." she mind-read. "Can you tell me what's upsetting you?" she asked again. "Well...I was over at Stan's house like you said. We were in the living room and I tried to find out what happened. They were watching TV like normal. But started ignoring Stan, like he didn't even exist. It was weird. He was hurt, so I did the right thing and hugged him." I stopped to look back at what happened. "But then... dragged Stan and..." I couldn't finish. "What is it Kyle?" she asked me. The memory of pushing me burned my mind. "BEATED HIM!" I yelled before crying into my hands.

As I felt my mother hug me, her questioning was over. I was sure that I communicated the message for her. She did spend a whole minute wrapping me in silence. "I don't understand, honey. Stanley's parents would never do that to him." she told me. I couldn't blame for not believing the truth, but I did feel like I conveyed it well. But I couldn't speak at that moment. I just sat there, allowing her to take me in. Once I was able to even get a word out, I moved from my mother and just sat beside her. "That's...what I thought too...But they had also learned...about our...relationship..." I hesitated, but continued. "I had...no idea...that...they didn't...like gays...But...even if they had...I would've... never.. expected them...to do this...to him...Just...ignore him...and hurt him...and disown...him..." I couldn't take it. I fell back into my mother's arms and cried again.

Unexpectedly, my mother got up and headed out of my room. I didn't bother to ask where she was going, but I kind of had an idea. I wanted to speak up, but no words would come out. I heard her footsteps heading down the stairs and I heard the sound of her picking up the phone. I thought it was best of her to use that phone instead of the one in my room. There was then a brief silence, before I heard her speak. "Oh, hi Sharon." I couldn't hear the other line, but I had an idea of what was going on. "Do you know if Stanley can come over?... No?... But Kyle wants him over so he can study for the finals...Oh...alright I understand. Bye." it was clear that conversation was over. However, to my surprise, I didn't hear her put the phone down. There was another silence, this one was shorter than the last. Again, I couldn't hear the other line. "Yes, my name is Sheila Broflovski. I'd like to report a case of child abuse...Oh, no. It's not in my house. It's in my neighbor's house...2001 Bonanza Street...That is Stanley Marsh, age ten...Thank you." she then hung up and placed the phone down. My heart was now pounding with excitement and relief. Stan was going to be saved. I heard my mother now coming up the stairs, obviously going to tell me the news. Once she was in my doorway, I wanted to run up and hug her. But then remembered my crutches. As I reached to the floor to grab them, I was interrupted by her. "You know, Kyle, the doctor said that you can get off those crutches tomorrow morning. We'll just stop by the hospital and have the cast removed. The injury was minor, so you won't need physical therapy. I'll call the school to tell them you'll be coming in late." she assured me. That was another weight off my chest. My mother walked over to me and hugged me. "The police are going to save Stan. Right?" I asked. "Yes, Kyle." she answered. "Thanks." was all I was able to say. We stayed in the embrace for a while.

Later that night, I was getting ready to go to bed. The previous afternoon had left me the most alive I had been since this whole mess started. Tomorrow, I will be able to _walk_ into school to see Stan's smiling face. I wouldn't care what the other classmates would think of us. will be in jail, never being able to hurt Stan again. And we would finally begin the gorgeous life together that couples dream about. We would have to do finals first, but that's not what I'm thinking about.

As all this goes through my mind as I lie down in my bed, something strange suddenly registers. Wendy. I had never told her about my relationship. In fact, I haven't even been thinking about her since Stan started going back to school. I looked over at my own phone by my bedside. I thought about not calling her tonight. I was thinking about telling her tomorrow at school, but I know that won't happen. She was one of my last worries to overcome, but I didn't want to put a damper on the end of the day. _"If you don't do this now, you never will!"_ I thought. Taking a deep breath, I picked up the phone and dialed Wendy's number. I put the phone over my ear and listened to the dial. After several beeps, I stareted to think that she wouldn't pick up. I was about to put down the phone when I heard Wendy's voice. "Hello." Well, here it goes. "Hey, Wendy." I greeted. "Oh hey Kyle. How are you doing?" she asked cheerfully. "Good." I answered. I considered telling her about the abuse, but I decided against it. "Listen, Wendy, there's something I have to tell you. It's very important." I began to get scared. Terrified. "Well, what is it?" she asked innocently. Oh God, she sounds so happy. _"You gotta tell her!"_ I told myself. "Wendy..." I started. "Stan is in love with...someone else." God damn it! That was the best I could. I begin to cringe; imagining how Wendy must be feeling. "Well, who is it?" she asked almost unfazed. "...Me." I closed my eyes as hard as I can. I feel like Wendy is right there and about to kill me. "Are you telling me that Stan is gay?" she demanded. "Yes..." I said timidly. My body was shaking heavily. "He loves you? And you love him back?" "Yes..." I answered shakily. "Are...you...mad?" I asked. I was prepared for her to come over, but I could never be ready to face her. "No." she answered. My eyes opened in shock. "You're not mad?" I asked again. "No. I care for Stan and I really like you as well. The thing I really care about is Stan's happiness. And if you make him happy, then who am I to get into the way." I was relieved again. "Thank you, Wendy. You're a really good friend." "You're welcome. Well, I'll see you tomorrow." "Alright, bye." I then hang up. I fell asleep quickly with no worries on my back.

The next morning I woke up to the familiar sound of my alarm clock. I rose and proceeded to follow my morning routine. I got dressed, ate breakfast, and brushed my teeth. Before I left to go to the hospital, I slung my backpack on my back, like normal. This was the first time my mother saw this, however. "Kyle, do you want me to carry that for you?" she asked me. I was never aware of the fact that she didn't see go to school. I shook my head. "Don't worry, Mom, it's fine." I reassured her. We then got into her car and we drove straight to Hell's Pass.

When we got there, I sat in one of the chairs in the waiting room while my mother checked me in. I didn't much but look around the room. There wasn't a lot of people there, as normal. We were able to go into the operating room immediately. I was in the same room I was on the day my leg was first examined. And believe it or not, the same doctor came in as well. "Why hello, Kyle. It's been quite a few days since I've seen you." he joked. "Anyway, we'll just get this overwith so you and your mother can be on your way." I nodded my head and he prepared to remove the cast. "Now just stay still and I'll have this thing off in no time." he directed. I agreed as he took out his saw and began to work. I looked at the clock to see how long the work was taking. In less than a minute, the doctor had the cast clean off. "There! Good as new!" he gazed. As I removed my leg from the cast, it felt bare. This was normal. After the operation, we drove straight to school. I looked at the clock on the radio; I was only a half hour late. My mother had to walk in with me though. After getting a pass to class, my mother left for home.

With my pass I walked to 's class. I handed him my pass and took my seat. I was expecting to see Stan. But he was absent again. I had thought about yesterday and had wondered where Stan was. But then I thought the worst. What if Stan had to move away to an orphanage? If that happened then I would've died. Or what if the police are holding Stan under custody to find a guardian? Oh no, he can't leave me. I failed to pay attention to again, but he didn't even bother to interrupt me this time. That was good. I need time to think about Stan. And that's why I'm going over his house straight after school. I don't care if the doors are locked or if I have to break a window to get in. I will investigate. School went by like a flash, and so was I when the final bell rung.

When I got to Stan's house, no one was home. I tried the door which was locked. I checked under the mat for the spare key, but it was gone again. I then decided to go into the backyard. I looked around for a decent sized stone and found a perfect one on the ground. I looked to make sure the coast was clear, and I slammed the stone with all my might at the glass sliding door. I used enough force to shatter the entire glass wall. Luckily, the Marshes don't have an alarm system. I went in through the frame and scanned the kitchen. Unfortunately, there were no clues on the first floor. I then ran up the stairs and slipped straight into Stan's room. There, I saw him curled up in the corner, crying softly. Oh my God. I quickly ran to him and hugged him tight as he now started crying into my chest. "What happened?" I asked concerned. It took a little bit for Stan to gain his strength. "Yesterday...after you stopped by...the police stopped by...here." he said in his sad, broken voice. "They came to question...my...father...and he locked me...in my closet...for some reason...the cops didn't...come up there...my dad...just kept them away." he explained sadly. As he said each aggravating detail, my anger for intensified. And Stan continued. "Then...after the cops left...he came for me...and beat me...again...But then...Sparky..." he said weaker and weaker. I thought about seeing Sparky as me and Wendy first walked into the house way back when. "What happened to him?" I asked him calmly. "He was...with me...when the cops came...He comforted me...like a dog should...God I love him...But...then...dad took him...they...killed him...cooked him...and...the family...ate...him..." he began sobbing in my chest again. I hugged him tighter. "Shh...shh...you don't have to say anymore." I comforted. I know Sparky meant a lot to Stan. And I think he also meant a lot to me as well. A tear rolled down my cheek as I thought about it. "It's okay Stan. You don't have to suffer anymore. I'll let you live with me." I told him. Stan removed his head and nodded before I hugged him again. I walked him out of the dreaded house, and straight home.

**To Be Continued**

**Please Read and Review!**


	21. Chapter 21

**I do not own any of this. Matt and Trey do.**

**Kyle's POV**

I didn't care if I was arrested for "kidnapping". I wouldn't have thought that his family would notice anyway. As I walked his cold and weeping body back home, keeping my mouth shut was the hardest part. There was still so much to learn about what has been going on behind my back, but who was I to force Stan to relive his horrors just for my sake? I'd figured it was best to let him speak when he's ready.

We had barely gone through with my mother noticing us. But she was able to refrain this time, having seen clear evidence of the truth I had claimed. I helped Stan up the stairs and into my room, where I laid him down on my bed. I went to my closet and got a sleeping bag to spread on the floor. As I was laying it down, I noticed Stan was trying to get up. "It's alright, you can sleep on the bed." I reassured him. I sat down beside him and placed my arm on his shoulder. There were questions I wanted to ask and justice to administer, but like I said, now's not the time. Then a completely thought came to mind. "Do you wanna study for the finals?" I asked him. If there was anytime to study, it had to be now; since the finals were tomorrow. I also figured that it'd be a great way to blow off steam and have problems drift away.

Stan didn't answer, though. He just sat there in complete silence. His breathing was subtle, his body was still, and blinking was a rarity. "I'll help you out." I offered. But yet, he still remained motionless. There was no telling what his current emotion was. Acting quickly, I got up and grabbed my backpack on the floor. I opened it and grabbed several books from it. I sat back down on the bed with the piles of books on my lap. "Now I must admit, we have a _lot_ to learn for tomorrow. It almost seems impossible," I chuckled, with the pointless hope of sweetening the atmosphere. "But together, we can get anything done." I said confidently. I had still failed to appease Stan. "So, what I was thinking was to let you decide which subject you'd like to start with." I affirmed him. He refused to even speak. "What about history? I know you like that." I asked him. "Kyle...I appreciate...what you're...trying to do...for me," Stan finally spoke. A miracle to say the least. "Why Stan, it's the least-" he then interrupted me. "But...don't you think...I have enough...going on?" I had assumed everything was now settled and set. "I saved you. You can forget those bastards who harmed you." I answered him. "But...what about...Sparky?" he asked sadly as his eyes began to tear up.

I didn't understand completely and I admit I was a little offended. "But...Stan. Don't you love me? Aren't I all you need?" I asked worried. Stan began to breathe very heavily and shakily. "Of course, Kyle...but...you have no idea...what it was...like there...Think about it...getting...raped...taking every last scrap of innocence...pride...and confidence...for no reason at all...And then coming home...to your family...and having them...hate you..." he struggled out. He then lowered his head and a fresh tear rolled down his face. "I understand completely and I'm here-" Stan interrupted me again. "No, Kyle...you don't..." he repeated this to himself softly. He then continued. "When I first got ... Sparky... remember when I wanted...him to be straight?..." he asked in his broken voice. I nodded my head. He continued. "And I...turned him away?" I nodded again. "That got me...thinking...I don't care...how he was...he was my dog...and I would love him...and so I did...and we became close..." he stopped for a moment. Another tear came down the same path as the first one. But yet, he was able to carry on. "When my dad...started hitting me...Sparky seemed to care.. when no one was around...he would cheer me up...I really loved him before...but I felt isolated then...I needed someone to come to me." I took this opportunity to speak up. "So then why didn't you tell me earlier?" I demanded. Stan was now making raspy breaths that I could tell must be difficult to conceive. "Because...I didn't...want him...to harm you." he answered weakly. I had thought about my encounter with in Stan's room. "Now...I don't...want you...to leave me." he breathed out before breaking down in tears. I immediately wrapped my arms around him and let him cry his problems out. Eventually, I was able to get him to sleep. I settled down in the sleeping bag and let the night go by.

**Stan's POV**

_A knock came at the door and it was enough to have my father get up from me. "Who is it?" he demanded. " of the South Park Police Department. We would like to come in to speak to you." I heard from the front door. Before I had time to think this all through, my father had opened my closet door and chucked me in. He also threw in Sparky to prevent commotion. He threw all sorts of shit in order to hide me and then locked the door. His feet then moved down the stairs and let the officer in._ _My injuries prevented me from moving, and the pile of stuff in my closet just made it worse. I tried my best to hear the conversation._

_" , we have received a report of domestic violence in your household. Are these allegations true?" Yates interrogated my father. "Of course not, Officer." he lied. I was confident that not even Yates will let my father get away. "The report says that the victim of these violent acts is your son, Stanley Marsh. Are these allegations true?" he asked. "I don't know who filed this report, but it's certainly not true, Officer." he cuckled. "My son is currently staying with relatives." I could hardly believe how confidently he's able to pretend like this. "Who are these relatives, ?" Yates demanded. Almost as smoothly as before, my father continued to ramble on. "He's staying with his cousins. They live in New Hampshire." There was then a brief silence. "Do you know when Stanley will return?" Yates asked conversationally. "Well, Officer, Stanley really likes being with his cousins. They have a nice house up in the White Mountains and there's a little lake nearby. I'd say he won't be back for a couple weeks." he brainwashed. There was then another brief silence. "Well, this all adds up nicely. Sorry to bother you, ." he apologized before leaving. I couldn't believe that believed all that shit. And he didn't even try to investigate._

_After Yates, I heard my father coming back up the stairs. He came into my room and unlocked the closet. He tore through the stuff he used to hide me and threw me out. I turned my head and saw him took Sparky by the collar. "COME ON, YOU BASTARD! COME WITH ME!" he ordered. Although my legs were weak and chest was hurting like hell, I followed him almost authomatically. We went downstairs and into the kitchen with Sparky. He opened the utensil cabinet and took out a big kitchen knife. He handed it to me. "KILL YOU FAG DOG!" he yelled. I was taken aback. I couldn't do it. "No...no...I...can't..." I whispered as I placed down the knife and hugged Sparky. However, my father was not sympathetic. "THIS IS DINNER TONIGHT! NOW YOU BETTER DO IT, OR ELSE I'LL FORCE YOU TO EAT HIM ALL BY YOURSELF!" he threatened. He grabbed the knife and pried my knuckled hand open and place the weapon in. There were now tears in my eyes. I dropped the knife again and remained motionless. "Come on, Stan! We wanna eat!" Shelley sneered from behind me. I remained in my stunned poise. "ALL RIGHT! THIS FAG DOESN'T KNOW WHAT HE'S DOING!" my father yelled before picking up the knife. "NO!" I yelled in resistance. Shelley grabbed me from behind and prevented me from intervening. And in an instantaneous slice, _Randy_ sliced right through Sparky's throat. My defenseless companion gave out a painful whimper as he fell on his side.I was tramatized as I was forced to see the whole thing. The knife's blade was dripping with red blood. The crimson substance formed a puddle on the floor, where his body lied. I was able to break from Shelley's grip and run over to my fallen friend. Tears were rushing down my face and I was giving very painful sobs. I didn't care about Randy's mean force anymore. Disobeying him, I rushed to my room and locked the door. I cramped myself into a corner so that nothing could touch me._

I wake up, screaming. I have explicitly relived that awful yesterday. Kyle was quickly beside me. The tears I felt in the dream were back. Kyle hugged me again. I feel like a pussy for having him do this to me so much.

**Randy's POV**

It had been another long day at work for me, as usual. I have also been faced with several disappointments, but I'll burn them off. I pulled up at the house and walked in. As usual, Shelley was busy watching some prissy soap oprea in the living room. And Sharon was in the kitchen preparing dinner. Not like last night's banquet wasn't enough. But I felt the first initiative was to settle my frustration. Going back upstairs, and went over to the room I used to fuck I noticed the little fucker wasn't there. I looked in the closet and he wasn't there either. I rushed out the door. "Sharon! Where's that little shit?!" I demanded. "He should be in his room where he was left." she answered from downstairs. I then moved quickly along the top floor, and analyzed each of the rooms. But he was nowhere to be found. I ran down the stairs and quickly looked around there before heading down to the basement. After being sure I've checked the house, I've come to the realization he wasn't there. "FUCK!" I yelled. I stomped up the basement stairs. I walked into the kitchen and saw my wife there. "He's not in the house." I reported to her.

She turned to me. "The little shit ran away! Didn't he?" she asked knowing the answer. "You're damn right he did!" I responded. By then Shelley had entered our discussion. "He's gone?!" she said. "He probably went to his fag's home, Kyle!" I thought aloud. "Well, Dad. Why don't you go over to that turd's house and get him?" Shelley asked. "Because he knows what's been going on here, damn it! And I bet he's the one who called the cops on me yesterday!" I explained. "Well then, what are we supposed to do?" my daughter asked me. I thought for a moment, before remembering the note I got on the night of the wake. I reached into my pocket and took out the piece of paper. I looked under the message and saw "Eric Cartman" as the author. I know him. He was one of my son's friends. I turned it around and saw his phone number written on it. I walked over to the phone and dialed said number.

I heard the phone ring several times before Eric's voice picked up. "Hello." I seized my opportunity to greet him. "Eric, it's me, Randy." I said. "Please sir, call me Cartman. So, what's the issue?" he asked me. I explained to him what had happened. Afterwards, he spoke to me sympathetically. "Why gee, I don't understand how he was able to escape, Randy." "I know, I thought I had him on the saddle." I replied. I needed more than this, so I continued. "What should I do, Cartman?" I asked him. "Don't worry, Randy. I'm sure I can take care of that motherfucker for you." he answered me. "Why thanks, Cartman. I sure am counting on you." I thanked him before hanging up. My family was standing next to me, eager to know the transaction. "Well, Dad. What's gonna happen?" Shelley demanded. "Don't worry, Shelley. Everything's covered." I assured her. Although I don't know what Cartman has in mind for the situation, I'm confident. I don't give two shits how he's going to take care of it, I just want it done.

**To Be Continued**

**Sorry if this chapter is a little shorter. But, I want to thank all the people who have been reading and reviewing. I'm glad I'm able to keep you entertained.**


	22. Chapter 22

**I do not own any of this. Matt and Trey do.**

**Stan's POV**

Never did I find myself going back to sleep after my nightmare. Kyle was able to calm me down again after I have once again cried into his shoulder. We then lay there in the bed. I glanced over at his alarm clock to check the time; "5:37" it read. Using my mustered strength, I crawled towards the window to see the sky. Kyle didn't interfere. The sky seemed rather normal for a June day: clear skies, the sun rising, and a beautiful orange tint-much like Kyle's hair. Luckily for me, today was the last day of school before summer vacation. I know there's a day of finals ahead of me, but I think I got it. I didn't miss that much, did I? Besides, my grades were excellent up until then, so my grades should survive the finals. But why would I care about that? With summer, me and Kyle could spend all the time in the world together without interruption.

I then got up from the foot of the bed and Kyle seemed to follow from behind me. I was trying to get dressed, but it was then that I had realized that I didn't have anything to wear.

Kyle also noticed and came in. "Don't worry, Stan. You can choose to wear one of my clothes today and I can try to get your stuff," he offered.

Who am I to take advantage of him?

"Kyle...I really like what you're doing..." I paused for a brief moment before I added, "but you really don't have to do this... You saving me is enough already..."

And I was honest. But it wasn't enough for Kyle to budge.

"Stan, every time I was in trouble you were there for me. You never gave a second's thought and you fought your way through some of the toughest obstacles for no other reason than for me. Remember when my kidneys failed?" he asked. I gave him a nod. "You couldn't stand to let me die, and you were the only one who knew there was serious problem with me. You also knew that Cartman was the only possible donor for me and you knew he was going to be difficult to work with. But you wouldn't let that stop you. You were able to trick him into giving away his kidney to me."

I recollected those memories and I guess I am a good friend.

"But I have to admit that I've been a shitty friend to you. When Wendy dumped you and you turned goth, I turned my back on you when you needed me. When the town banished you because you refused to vote, I spat on you and ripped off a piece of your jacket. But worst of all, I left you when you became cynical. You couldn't help it, but I was too stupid to realize it," he pitied.

I couldn't help but hug him.

"No Kyle, it's not your fault. You couldn't help it that you were unable to help," I reassured him.

Kyle broke away from the hug and got serious.

"Look, Stan, you don't have to pity me. I know that I have done wrong to you, but no more. You've given me so much and I must be a good friend to you," he proclaimed to me.

He had a point, but I couldn't help but feel proud of Kyle. I could never be mad at him for pitying himself or thinking he should change. I hugged him again.

"Oh Kyle, you're so sweet and beautiful!" I told him.

"You know I feel the same for you, Stan," Kyle embraced. We stayed that way until Kyle broke it.

"We should get ready for school. The finals are today!" he reminded me. He went to his drawer to get dressed, and he was probably trying to get me some of his clothes.

"Kyle, you don't need to give me your clothes, though. I have the clothes I wore yesterday," I told him.

"Well alright, if that's what you want," he answered before digging through his drawer.

Meanwhile, I placed on my white, blood-stained V-neck and slipped on my jacket to cover it up. I also placed on my jeans. They were a little tattered, but nothing too noticeable. Finally, I placed on my red poofball hat to finish my normal look. I looked over at Kyle, who was placing the final touches on his normal look as well.

Afterwards, we headed downstairs for breakfast. I know today would be filled with tests, but Kyle and I each settled for a bowl of cereal. This was the first time all week where I ate something without being in constant fear. We were both in the middle of eating when Kyle stopped.

"You think you're ready for the finals?" he asked me. Like I said, those were in the back of my mind. But grades were always very important to him.

"I guess so," I replied to him.

After we had finished eating, we made our way to the doorway with our bags. "We're going to school, Mom!" Kyle shouted from the bottom of the steps.

"Goodbye you boys! I'll see you after school!" she answered back. I also yelled farewell to her before we started heading towards the bus stop.

We had arrived far too early. I took out my phone to check the time. It read "6:17." The bus wouldn't be here for another hour and thirteen minutes. We decided to use our time to do a final review for the final. The two of us took out our textbooks from our bags and we quizzed each other. I decided to quiz Kyle first.

"Alright, what is the capital of Bosnia and Herzegovina?" I asked him.

"Sarajevo," he answered. I looked at the answer and he was correct. I figured that he'd got world capitals down and moved on to history.

"What day was Martin Luther King Jr. assassinated?" I asked.

"April 4, 1968," Kyle answered boldly. He was like a computer. I was probably going to hear this for the next hour.

"Kyle, do you think you know everything you need?" I asked him. He nodded his head.

"You know, I think I might need a little more help than you do. Could you quiz me now?" I offered him my textbook, which he accepted.

"Alright, Stan. At what temperature is absolute zero in Celsius?" he quizzed me. It was then that I realized that a lot has happened in my absence. But I didn't want to say that I just didn't know.

"Um...zero?" I guessed.

"Sorry, that's not right," I had a feeling that he would say that. So I asked him for the correct answer.

"It was -273," he informed me. I then tried to grasp that.

For the next hour Kyle had quizzed me. I had gotten a majority of them wrong. In fact, the only ones I got correct were the ones that were repeated. I had remembered those answers.

"Do you think I will pass, Kyle?" I asked him. He placed his hand on my shoulder.

"You'll do fine, Stan. Besides, your grade will hold up no matter what you get," the redhead reassured me. And just then, the bus pulled up. The two of us happily walked on.

The two of us were spared on the bus ride. Everyone else was too focused on the upcoming summer to give a shit about our love. And I feel proud as well. Things seem to be getting back on the right note.

When we got to school, Kyle and I walked to class where we planned to talk until Mr. Garrison came in to give the class the finals. But to our surprise, the packets were already on our desks and Mr. Garrison's desk was empty. On the black board, there was a piece of paper attached to it. Willingly, I went up and read it.

Dear Class,

Me and the entire faculty are taking the day off for "professional" reasons. But that doesn't exempt you from your finals. The exam is 1000 multiple choice questions of everything you've learned this year. In addition, there will be 10 short answers and an essay. You have the entire school day to complete the exam. Don't think about reccess, because it's not happening. Don't think about lunch either; you should've thought of bringing something. When you're done, send the test to my house. You little shits have had me for two years now. You should know where I live by now. And also, don't think about cheating. All the tests are randomized.

Whatever, that's just normal Garrison. I went to my desk and attended to my test. The line where I would write my name already had mine typed on the line. This was very weird, but like I said, it's Garrison. I then went to the first question. Our school doesn't have the technology for ScanTron sheets, so we just circle the answers and write down the letters.

But as I read the first question, I noticed something else strange. I couldn't comprehend the question. Don't get me wrong, I can read. However, this doesn't look like English:

1) Что является последней фазой в революции Луны вокруг Земли?

A) полнолуние B) Растущая луна

C) новолуние D) Убывающая луна

It might've been some other language or just gibberish. I got up and looked at the other tests. They were in English, but other students' names were typed on them. I had an unfair disadvantage, and I knew the exact reason behind it. Mr. Garrison hates me as well. I thought he was just protecting us from bad decisions, not being a homophobic traitor. I knew this was going to be a hell of a day.

The other students arrived shortly after I began my test. They quickly got the memo about it and began with their tests. I looked around the room. Some people were flying through the test, like Kyle and Wendy. Others weren't moving so fast, but they were all moving faster than I was. I knew that I was never going to get the test done by doing nothing. I had tried to decipher the questions, but I couldn't possibly have figured it out. It was then that I tried to just guess. It helped me whiz through the pages.

By the time I reached question 100, I was already starting to feel lethargic. It made me wish that I had eaten a bigger breakfast. I looked at the clock; it was only "9:30." I would be stuck in this hell for another five and a half hours. But I just continued to guess as usual. There was honestly no way I could get all of them wrong.

I had finished the 1000 questions in what seemed like a reckless eternity. I looked at the clock again. It read "11:34." Gee, that certainly wasted time. Unfortunately, though, the rest of the test will be the hardest for me. I looked over at Kyle, who was now done with the entire test. He was in the middle of reading a book. If only I had brought something to read when I was done. Or if I got done.

It took me the rest of the day to finish the test. I guessed what each short answer was about and stuck on a topic. I then used my mustered knowledge to create a response. But unfortunately, I didn't know too much from the reviews me and Kyle did from the morning. But the essay was the mother of the mess. I did a pretty lazy job at describing what I thought to be World War I, but I will never know what I was really supposed to write about.

At the end of the day, me and Kyle decided not to take the bus but to walk back to his house. On our way, we delivered our exams to Mr. Garrison's house.

"So how do you think you did, Stan?" Kyle asked me.

"I don't know, Kyle. My test wasn't even in English," I told him.

"That's weird. Mine was in English. Do you think Mr. Garrison caught up with the rest of the kids?" he suggested.

"I tell you, Kyle, you are reading my mind," I answered.

"Well, it doesn't really matter now. It's summer."

"I know, and I'm just as excited as you are!" I replied back.

"By the way, Stan, do you still want me to get your stuff?" Kyle offered to me.

"Yeah, my family shouldn't be home right now. You should be safe," I assured him. "Do you want me to come with you?" I offered back.

"It's fine. You should head back to my house."

"Well, alright. I'll see you back there."

Kyle then went down the street to my house, and I headed back to his. I was greeted with Mrs. Broflovski sitting on the couch.

"Oh hey, Stanley. How was your day?" she greeted me.

"It went fine. We had finals." It was then that she noticed Kyle wasn't standing next to me.

"Where's Kyle?" she asked me. I then explained to her what he was doing.

"Oh, well, that's nice of my bubby," she cheered. And I agree. Kyle is an amazing kid.

I went up to our room and waited by the window for Kyle's return. I knew it wouldn't be that long, but I still couldn't help it.

But he didn't come back. I checked my phone; he should've been back by now. I also checked my inbox for any texts or calls, but there weren't any. It was then that I tried to call him. I dialed his number and placed the phone to my ear. It rang and it rang again. But it ended up going to voicemail. I called him again, and the same thing happened. I waited a few minutes before calling him again, but to no avail.

Instinctively, I went downstairs and out of the house and made my way to my former residence. The driveway was empty, of course. I used the spare key I always carry and made my way in. I spent the next twenty minutes turning the house upside down. I went up to my room where I noticed bags that were filled with my stuff, but were unzipped. Kyle was nowhere in the house.

I ran back home and told his mom about the situation. She then worriedly dialed 911. And afterwards she sat back down.

"Do you think he ran off?" she suggested.

"No, he couldn't have. It looked as if he was starting to pack my stuff," I told her.

"Well, are you sure nobody was home?" she asked.

"I don't think so. My sister should be at her friend's house and my parents should still be at work," I answered her.

We then heard the sirens of the police cars, but they didn't stop at Kyle's house. They stopped at my old house. Me and Mrs. Broflovski ran out towards the house where a police officer was. He forced us back while the deputies were investigating the house. And I continue to ponder where Kyle was. The chief surprisingly didn't interrogate us.

Finally, one of the deputies came out. He approached the officer and they discussed quietly. I longed to know what they were talking about and so did Kyle's mom. The officer absorbed the information before returning to us.

"Stanley, Mrs. Broflovski, we have news for you. There is minimal evidence that Kyle was in the house, but there was evidence of a man or even a group. The details are a little hazy. But they do indicate that Kyle was in the house first," he reported.

"So...what are you saying?" I asked him.

"Kyle has been kidnapped," he finished.

**To Be Continued**

**Some of you have probably noticed that the spacing of this chapter was a little different from the previous ones. I did this to make it easier to understand. I will be editing all the previous chapters to appear in this format. For people who have been reading this, do not fear, I will not change any of the content or wording. Such changes will be notified ahead of time. So for my followers, don't be too excited if you get notifications of "new" chapters. They are merely the previous chapters. But remember, after Chapter 21 and this latest addition, everything should be new. So thank you, and continue to read and review!**


	23. Chapter 23

**I do not own any of this. Trey and Matt do.**

**Stan's POV**

"We are still investigating, however we can confirm at this point that he has been kidnapped." Yates repeated. I had heard him the first time, I was not an idiot. But I allowed the sargeant to do so.

I could barely allow a moment to process the information before went into an utter panic. The woman was screeching complete gibbersh as tears flooded from her face.

" !" he rushed to her assisstance. "We are working very hard to track down your son!" he comforted her. I felt I had no purpose of staying, so I walked off and headed back to Kyle's house.

It was once that I was there that I felt numb. Nobody else was home and I felt awkward being in the house, although I technically live there now. I hoped that would've been more assertive in this situation, but I don't blame her. It's her natural mother instinct to react like this in this situation.

Ever since I had opened up to Kyle, the world has gone against me. I knew that people's viewpoints would change when they had come to the realization, it's not like anything I could've ever imagined. My world has turned to rape, abuse, kidnapping, and even murder! And it's all my fault! I long to go back before this entire mess started, or at least to start over. But I can't! I fucking can't! All because of a poem! And now Kyle is suffering because of it!

I lie in my bed, allowing these thoughts to process throughout my mind. I had no idea what I had felt. My body was numb, but my mind was racing. If there was a reset button to all this, then I'd press it until it was worn out. But I knew that such a thing didn't exist. What happened happened and I have to bear that.

But then a memory appeared. I didn't summon it, but it threw itself in my face. I was back at the concrete cabin where my innocence and virginity were murdered. But it wasn't that scene, but past it. I was back on my bed, and my life was slipping through my fingers. Time had long ceased its operation and darkness filled the room as it appeared to always have. But then, a light cracked open, and a familiar figure appeared, Kyle. The motivation that caused me to trigger this eternity of terror has forgiven me for what I've done. I had disappeared without a trace and he has set all differences aside to liberate me? I couldn't be standing here without his act of selflessness.

As I thought about this, I saw the correlation that had now existed between my imprisonment and his disappearance. And I now possessed the courage to stand back up. I walked down the stairs, and the house was desolate as I had suspected and I took my flight.

I ran down the neighborhood as fast as I could and broke into the woods. Once I was sure no one could see me, I began to dwell deeper into the woods.

**Cartman's POV**

Randy had come to my house and to my room. He knew it was best considering I called him. The man sat down in a chair that I had set up for him.

"So, I'd figure you'd show up, Randy." I began.

"Of course you know where I am, damn it! It's about Stan!" he sneered.

"Don't worry, Randy, I am a man of business. I hate him just as much as you do. And I wish to help you." I explained.

"Well, what do you have in mind?" he asked.

"Alright, so Stan already knows about you, and I bet he's preparing for your next direct strike."

"Well...I guess so." he replied.

"But that's the obvious move, Randy! Do you really think another beating will get to him?" I asked.

"Well, it could...if we did it long enough." he said slowly.

"You're right, and I like where you're going." I started. "BUT THAT'LL TAKE TOO LONG!" I yelled.

Randy seemed to flinch a bit, before coming to terms. "So...what did you have in mind?" he made out.

"Just hear me out. Kyle is just about the most important thing in Stan's life right now. So perhaps we can dispose of him." I suggested.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm saying we should seize him and kill him. Or, if we're really nice, we could just beat and rape him first, just like his friend."

Randy popped his eyes open in amazement, but also worry. "But...Gerald...what will he think of me?" he concerned.

I had prepared for that question. "If everything goes as planned, then he doesn't have to know it was you, Randy." I answered.

Randy then rose and offered me my hand. "You got yourself a deal." I then gladly shook it.

"But listen, we're going to need a little assistance." I pointed out.

"But who are we going to find that'll help us?" he asked confused.

"I know just the right people. Do you know Richie, Alfred, and George?"

"Why yes, they work with me at the SPCSA."

"I originally hired them to kidnap Stan and rape him. Had it not been for that Jew, they also would've killed him!" I told him. Randy had his mouth agape at this point.

"They're homophobic, but yet they rape gays?"

"The truth is, Richie is so used to rape that you can pay him to do it to _anyone_. He hates queers with all his heart, but if you give him what he wants...he can arrange it. And the other two, they're just like him. They stick by Richie and the threesome have created quite a hate group." I explained to the fellow man.

"How do you know all this stuff?"

"I'm not as sane as you, Randy. I'm a hater. I spend my days searching the internet and going around town, looking for people who are just as against minorities as I am. What I found was quite astounding. I met Richie at an abandoned bar about ten months ago. I saw him in there writing a manifesto against queers. We talked a bit, and we have since grown as friends. Along the way, he told me about Alfred and George, and we have become a great team. Stan was the first victim of our operation. I had suspected for some time that he was gay, but all it took was that poem to really get me going. I called in the guys, and we did our duty."

"So...they're your...friends?" he asked me. I nodded my head for assurance. Randy then regain his passion. "Alright, let's do it!" he commanded.

The two of us then called up the three and told them about our plan. They were all for it, just as I was. We planned to shelter in Stan's house until he was there all alone. I didn't go to school on the day of those finals, it didn't matter anyway. As soon as Sharon and Shelly left the house, Randy let us in and we sheltered as such. We knew it would at least take a while.

The five tried to not look suspicious to passerbys, so we ended up relaxing. We "raided" the kitchen for snacks. I then started to go through Netflix to find something to watch.

"Can we watch _National Treasure_?" Randy asked.

"No, I fucking hate Nicholas Cage! I wanna watch _Schindler's List _and make fun of all the Jews!" I yelled. Richie nodded with me in agreement.

"I wanna watch _Passion of the Christ_! I think it's only best since we're going on this dangerous mission." George suggested.

"Who said we're gonna need luck?!" Alfred sneered. "I wanna watch some fucking Will Ferrell!" he added.

The three hitmen then broke out into an argument. I slapped my face with my palm just listening to how unprofessional they're acting. But I then heard the home phone ring. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I intervened. The three men stopped and I directed them to the ringing phone. Randy bravely got up to see who it was. He then picked up the phone.

"Oh hey, Mr. Turcott..." the hitmen then turned to face Randy. "...don't worry, my wife is now out of the hospital, but she needs help around the house...I also had Al, Richie, and Joe come along to help me, I don't mean to affect them...if you want, as soon as Sharon is better, I will work three times harder for them...alright, thank you." he then hung up. Randy then returned to the living room. "Don't worry, guys, I got it all covered." he explained to them. We then calmed down and spent the day watching movies. Although we were quite into what we were watching we still kept an eye on the clock on the cable box.

Luckily, we finished our last movie around 2:55. At that point, we were each at a window, keeping watch of the two boys. It was quite boring, but luckily for our sake, it didn't take all that long. It was only about ten minutes before Richie shouted "faggot" coming in his direction toward the house. I then made a break for the kitchen closet, while everyone else hid in different places around the home.

It wasn't long before all of us heard the door open and footsteps being made. They quickly made their way up the staircase, each becoming more and more distant as they reached the second floor. I could still hear them right above me. I heard a door open, a couple more footsteps, and then they ceased. There was then a silence of a couple seconds, it was then that I suddenly heard Richie yell in satisfaction as a door swung open. Kyle quickly screamed in terror before he was silenced. I made my way out of the closet door and I ran upstairs, with George next to me.

We then met in Stan's room, where Richie, Alfred, and Randy had Kyle unconscious and tied up.

"Good job, you three!" I congratulated them.

I looked out the bedroom window to make sure the coast was clear. Luckily for us, there was no evidence or stain that could trace back to us. We then descended the stairs and went out the back door. It was a little risky, but we got George and Randy to hide the body in the bushes. Meanwhile, Richie and Alfred made their way to get the car. I kept lookout to make sure no one witnessed. It didn't take long to get the black car to our availability. We quickly rallied up Randy and George to the car with the body and we drove off, blending in with society, not a hint to suspect.

**To Be Continued**


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